


volcanoes on the sun

by KyryeDuBarie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AtsuhinaExchange2020, Fluff, For Ellieb3an, Getting Together, It's Bokuaka, M for discussed and alluded to sex, M/M, MSBY Jackals, Oh, Pining, Post-Canon, Romance, They're oblivious and a mess, Weddings, and drinking, but no smut, they get hitched
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26506885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyryeDuBarie/pseuds/KyryeDuBarie
Summary: "Anyways, why didn't you tell me Bokuto and Akaashi were getting married?"Atsumu yawns. "Cuz I wanted to hear yer-" he stops in his tracks, a moment of clarity washing over him for the second it takes to not make the conversation weird. "I wanted to see what you did." He says instead and waits for the second that it takes Shouyo to respond with bated breath."I'm freaking out, of course! Who proposed?"-------------------------------------OrShouyo keeps waking Atsumu up
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 270
Collections: AtsuHina Exchange





	volcanoes on the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellieb3an](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellieb3an/gifts).



> Here it is! For the Atsuhina Exchange participant: Ellieb3an. I mostly used your prompts about Atsumu being kind of a disaster and Hinata always falling a little for his setters and being like 'oh', though there are other prompts from you requests sprinkled here and there.  
> (Italics are for flashbacks;))

**I**

The envelope is made of thick, ivory paper, with discreet gold accents that give it a tasteful, elegant air. It looks so fancy that Shouyo is almost afraid of touching it, it feels like his mother is going to jump out from somewhere, and tell him to wash his hands before he gets it greasy, because that's really nice paper.

It doesn't help that he's just gotten home from a long run and is dripping with sweat. If only to appease the memory of his mom, Shouyo goes to wash and dry his hands before touching the envelope further.

But it really _is_ very fancy, he wonders what it is.

Shouyo stretches upwards, the joints of his back pop as he groans. He heads to the kitchen, today is his one day off because his team's usual gym is getting painted and they're going to be making up for it by practicing on Sunday. The sun is streaming prettily through his windows, bouncing off the thick, luscious green of the row succulents that he keeps on the little ledge above his kitchen counter.

He squints at the envelope and opens the fancy little golden latch. Curiosity simmers in his belly, none of his Brazil friends are quite the type to send something like this. They're a pretty laidback crowd, Shouyo has gotten more than one marriage or christening invite via facebook.

Out of the envelope comes a matching card, just as tasteful, Shouyo's eyes trace over the letters, a rush of longing filling his belly at the sight of the Japanese characters.

As soon as he gets the gist of it, he jumps for his phone, and he’s not tired at all, not anymore.

.

.

_Hinata Shouyo_

_You are cordially invited to the wedding of_

_**Akaashi Keiji** _

_and_

_**Bokuto Koutarou** _

_To be held at_

_The Nishido Hotel Resort._

_On Sunday, December Eighteenth, 2022._

.

.

"This was what you've been teasing me with for the past month?!" The voice coming through the phone is cheery and familiar, it makes his heart flip in his chest. And though it takes Atsumu a second to figure out who it is, he can picture the pout on Shouyo's mouth way before he gets his brain together enough to answer. "Atsumu!" Shouyo insists.

"Augh, Shou." Atsumu groans, falling back on his warm, soft pillow. "Yer gonna have to be more specific, I was asleep."

There's a short silence on the other end. "Isn't it Friday over there too?" Shouyo teases, sounding all bright, and awake, and Atsumu isn't in a clear enough headspace to make the hour conversion, but it must be morning in Brazil. "Have you turned into a grandpa while I've been away?"

"We have a match tomorrow, in Tokyo." His eyelids are fighting to close again, he was having such a nice dream. "And yer the one that does all the conserves and the meditating, don't judge me."

"Oh, that was this weekend, sorry. Is your shoulder still being annoying?" Atsumu makes an assenting noise, turning on his side and letting his face sink into the pillow. Now that he's not yelling Shouyo's voice is kinda soothing. "Anyways, why didn't you tell me Bokuto and Akaashi were getting married?"

Atsumu yawns. "Cuz I wanted to hear yer-" he stops in his tracks, a moment of clarity washing over him for the second it takes to not make the conversation weird. "I wanted to see what you did." He says instead and waits for the second that it takes Shouyo to respond with bated breath.

"I'm freaking out, of course! Who proposed?"

Any and all energy leaves Atsumu with the sigh of relief that he heaves then, the ginger didn’t notice his slip up. "Bokuto, we're still finding dried up peony petals everywhere in the gym." He yawns. "But the invitations-"

"Are all Akaashi-san." Shouyo interrupts him. "I know, and it's a destination wedding too! I really hope I can make it! I bet everyone's going, you can make it, right?"

Atsumu hums, eyelids falling completely shut now. "'Course I can Shou." he smiles sleepily. "Imma beat your ass on the slopes too."

On the other side of the phone, Shouyo chuckles, light and sunny and Atsumu feels his chest grow tight, even through the fog of sleep. "Ha, I'd like to see you try." Shouyo pauses for a moment. "I've missed you all so much."

"Missed you too." it's mumbled against the pillow and Shouyo doesn't seem to hear it.

"Right, right, I'll let you sleep. Good luck on your game, I'll be watching."

"G'night Shou." It's even more unintelligible than before, but Shouyo seems to get the gist of it. He laughs, it’s that silver-bell laugh again, the one Atsumu remembers from getting street food with the ginger in every town they visited while they were teammates.

Shouyo’s next words send Atsumu right down into those memories, twisted into shimmering, neon-lit dreams. "Sleep well 'Tsumu."

.

.

_It's not actually a tradition to go for sushi after the first week of every new member, but Atsumu makes sure that no one tells Hinata that._

_Convincing the team isn't hard anyway -at least enough of it for it not to be too blatant, Barnes’ kids are in the city and some others also have stuff to do- it has barely been a week and even Sakusa is already terribly fond of the ginger -in his own way and only after he made sure Hinata didn't catch any tropical diseases while abroad, it was a rather amusing sight, to see him chasing the ginger along with a nurse- and if Bokuto's going to get any closer to the guy he might start carrying him on his back everywhere._

_This is kinda cute, but besides the point,_ the _point is that he just squeezed into a tight cubicle right between Hinata and Bokuto, which means he's pressed from shoulder to ankle to the ginger -gods, he hopes that Hinata doesn't need to use the toilet at any time – who is pressed to the wall on his other side._

_And it's-, it's strange, gods above it's like every little square centimeter of surface that's pressed against Hinata's body is in contact with a live wire and- "I missed this so much!" Hinata chirps beside him, and Atsumu feels like the sun is right by the corner of his eye and if he turns to look at it, the brilliance will blind him._

_But he's Atsumu, Miya Atsumu and he doesn't back down._

_Besides he has practice watching this particular celestial body, even if most of it is from high school. "Betcha did." Atsumu turns to the ginger, grinning. "Didja eat anything interesting over there?"_

_"Dude, I ate everything! I mean I missed the food from here a lot, and I once ate these empanadas in the street and got sick." Hinata grimace. "But the barbecue, it was so good Atsumu! I already miss the barbecue, and the feijoada!"_

_Alright, no, that wasn't weird, this is. Somehow the goofy grin that Hinata is looking up at him with has knocked any words Atsumu ever learned right out of his head._

_He has to take a breath, and then another before he even notices that their little cubicle is absolutely silent. That snaps him out of it enough to turn to look at everyone else at the table. Bokuto's eyes are wide and bright, Sakusa looks like he's an eye roll away from needing to get his eyes put back in his skull surgically, Meian and Thomas are just grinning at them like high school girls with a fashion magazine._

_Hinata's head turns to them too. He looks rapidly between Atsumu and the rest. "Oh, right, sorry, I forget. I got so used to first names and-" His cheeks redden a little and for some reason, Atsumu feels protective._

_"'s fine." He rushes to say. "'s fine, I can call you Shouyo, right?"_

_Hinata grins back, eyes wide, the color of chestnuts and the bark of that tree he and Osamu used to climb back in the day. "Sure can, thanks!"_

_Someone clears their throat and Atsumu realizes he and Hinata are like, kissing-distance away. His ears burn, he scoots back, as far as possible, gaze meeting Sakusa's mildly amused one. "You two do realize that none of us said anything, right?"_

_"With that judgy stare y'all have, you didn't need to." He snaps back, glaring at the opposite hitter, who just looks more smug by the second._

_"Right, right." Meian's laugh is booming, he lifts a hand to signal at the waiter. "It’s what we're here for! Team bonding! It's all good." He lays a large hand on Sakusa's shoulder almost jostling the man. "Anyone else wants to get the craft beer with me?"_

_"I do, I do!" Hinata jumps to say._

_"Me too," Atsumu exclaims. “Can’t fall behind ya, Shouyo!” He calls, testing out the name. It rolls easily off his tongue._

_"Me too!" Bokuto echoes._

_In the end, everyone but Sakusa ends up taking the beer._

.

.

_Sending video call request to **Atsumu º-º**_

The phone rings, once, twice, three times. It's like six in the morning over there, oh god, Shouyo really hopes he's not waking Atsumu up _again_. Even though he's on vacation, and that's kind of impossible.

Shouyo is about to give up when the screen finally shifts to a grainy silhouette and then, eventually to Atsumu's face. He has seen -and heard- sleep-rumpled Atsumu several times before and he is quite a sight.

His hair is sticking out in all directions and there are little, adorable sleep wrinkles all over his right cheek where it was probably pressed to the pillow until a couple of seconds ago. His heavy-lidded eyes blink a couple of times, probably trying to bring Shouyo's face into focus. "Why d'ya always wake me up?" he yawns. "Want me to get wrinkles before ya? Is that it?"

That tears a peal of laughter from his throat, typical Atsumu, even half-asleep he doesn't miss a chance to tease him. "Why try when you've already go them?" Shouyo teases back, pointing at his own cheek. Two can play that game. "But really, sorry, I really need a favor and you're meeting me and-"

"Speak." Atsumu groans, falling back on the bed, his dyed hair fans around him. "Y'have like a minute before I fall asleep again."

Anyone else would probably hang up. People don't usually believe that Atsumu is dependable outside of the court, but he is, amazingly so. He teases, of course, but since Shouyo first went back to Japan three years ago, he's always had his back. "Well, so-" He leans on the window, cheek pressing into the cold glass of the Uber. "I don't have any winter clothes."

"What?" Atsumu's voice is incredulous. "Aren't ya due on the plane like, right now?"

"Yeah, I realized this morning that my old ones got eaten by, I don't know, some things that looked like moths! The box was full of them! It must've happened sometime after the last move and- It's really hard to get that kind of clothes here." He takes a deep breath. "And if I stop now, I won't get to my flight on time and everything else is booked up because it’s December and-"

Atsumu's eyes narrow sleepily. "Thirty seconds Shou-chan."

"So can you please, please get me like a few clothes?" Shouyo hurries to say. "I don't mind if they're big, even just one set is fine, I just don't want to freeze or have to wait for the shops to open because I'm getting there at like five in the morning-"

"Whoa, calm down-" Atsumu chuckles, voice heavy with sleep. "It's fine, I'll get ya some. I'm picking yer ass up from the airport anyways. You still the same size?"

"Yeah, same size, both shoes and the rest. Thanks so much!" Shouyo grins. "You're awesome."

Atsumu rolls his eyes at him. "You owe me."

"Well, then it's good I'm bringing you a bottle of Cachaca, remember? You loved it that one time." It’s so easy to talk to Atsumu, too easy, not that Shouyo is someone who has a hard time holding conversations, but with him, it’s almost as easy as it is with Kageyama.

The other's eyes go wide, and his cheeks darken.

Oh, right. They don’t talk about that.

Stupid Shouyo, ughh.

He's about to apologize, but Atsumu cuts him off. "That was really good." He grins, a little shaky, but it's there. "Yer so sweet thinking of me Shou."

"Well, you're in a tie for the spot of my favorite setter." Shouyo teases.

"You know I'm winning by miles." Now the grin is genuine, the old joke falling like a balm over the awkwardness.

Shouyo smiles, god, he's missed Atsumu, that's a fact, a big one. "Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but we're here!" The driver calls from the front seat, annoyed. “Have been, actually for a while.”

He jumps. "Oh right, sorry Atsumu-"

"Don't mind." Atsumu turns over on the bed, his sleepy voice calls. "See ya tomorrow Shou, I'll get you some clothes. I promise"

The call cuts off, and Shouyo sprints for his flight.

.

.

_"Wait, where were you staying again Hinata?" Meian asks as they stumble out of the restaurant, being professional athletes none of them drink too often. Asking for a third pitcher of craft beer may not have been the wisest decision._

_Ironically, Shouyo feels pretty good. Brazil has no shortage of very heavy alcoholic drinks. While he didn't usually go out to drink specifically but he wasn't one to refuse the odd shot, and then there were the Carnival days.... yeah, he never got anything done in the carnival days. "Uh, the Shiroshou hotel? Y'know, the one beside the park with the huge trees."_

_"Aww, shame." Bokuto calls. "I thought we could share an uber, but that's the opposite way from my place." He pouts. "I wanted to catch up more!"_

_A sort of exchange of glances happens between Meian and Sakusa, Shouyo doesn't miss it but he definitely has no idea what it's about. "Well, Sakusa-kun is taking us," he says, gesturing between himself and Adriah Thomas -oh god Shouyo's still freaking out a bit over that-. "Since he didn't drink, but you live in the same general direction, right Miya?"_

_Atsumu looks like deer caught in headlights, his hair is just a little less perfect than usual, his cheeks a rosy pink from the alcohol. "Yes?" he frowns like it's taking him a second to remember. "Yeah, I do."_

_"Right." Meian grins, a wide grin that shows all his teeth, one no one would say no to. "So you're in charge of getting Hinata to his hotel."_

_"I'm not Shouyo's babysitter." Atsumu snaps, then his head whips to Shouyo. "D'ya think yer gonna get lost?"_

_Shouyo shrugs. "I mean, I'll make it there eventually," he shrugs, it's true, he got lost often back in his early Brazil days. Sometimes it took a few well-intentioned citizens or a dog to get him back on his planned path. "You all don't have to worry. I'm used to it, I only got mugged once in Brazil."_

_There are a pause and a small, frown flashes through Meian's face, then Atsumu rolls his eyes. "Fine, fine, I'll tuck him in if ya want captain."_

_Meian laughs, smug and amused, his figure imposing in the amber light of the streetlamps. "If you feel like it's necessary, Atsumu." he turns around to face Sakusa and Thomas. "Should we get going?" He asks in that booming voice of his._

_Shouyo watches as they nod and say their goodbyes. Bokuto -giddy, tipsy Bokuto- all but crushes Shouyo in his goodbye hug. A peal of laughter escapes his throat as he returns the squeeze, just as hard._

_When Shouyo's eyes open he finds Adriah Thomas' gaze. The older man grins and then winks at him, eyes flying to Atsumu immediately after, which is weird, because-_

_Oh._

_Are they setting him up? With Atsumu?_

_Shouyo turns around to take a longer look at him. It's not like he hasn't thought of it, and Shouyo has -as Tsukishima has dryly put it way too many times- a tendency to be very attracted to his setters, and their hands, and-_

_Yeah, Atsumu is very nice to look at. He must be staring a bit because the man narrows his eyes at Shouyo. "Well, let's go, were close but if ya wanna take an uber I don't mind," he says._

_"Nah," Shouyo says, glancing around them, they're in a wide side street, flanked with tall trees that are a staple of this part of the city. It's a lukewarm night, right in the crux of summer to autumn and the breeze that swipes over them every once in a while makes his skin tingle pleasantly. "It's such a nice night if you don't mind walking..."_

_Atsumu gives him a soft, understanding smile in return. "Nope, not at all. Not far, as I said" he hums and tugs Shouyo's arm so he's facing the right direction as they start walking. "Aren't ya cold?"_

_"No," Shouyo shrugs his shoulders, he's only wearing a t-shirt. "Pretty fresh actually, the place where I lived in Brazil was always very hot."_

_The older man chuckles tugging down the sleeves of his thin, long-sleeved sweater. "Didja not get used to the heat?" he asks, and Shouyo can feel the man's eyes tracing his profile as they walk._

_"More like learn to live with it." he smiles, memories of playing on the beach coming up to the forefront of his mind. "It was fun, but it's hot all year-round. I haven't seen snow since I left. Half the reason I wanna walk back is the weather."_

_Atsumu whistles. "Can't imagine that, snow's nice." he pauses for a moment. "Think you'll come back? The Brazilian teams are always way up in rankings."_

_For a moment, Shouyo remains quiet. He hasn't actually thought that far. It was a promise he made to himself, coming back here to rise to the next stage, but now that he's seeing the world with a better perspective, it's not out of the question that he might leave Japan at some point in the future to play for a foreign team. If all of this goes well of course. "I dunno. I wanna play here for now." Shouyo bites his lip. "But you're right, I don't think I'd say no, if y'know, someone asked."_

_"Nah, you wouldn't be that silly," Atsumu says, laughing. "Yer hardcore Shouyo. Not many people would've left for another country like you did."_

_The praise is a rocket of heat, rising fast to Shouyo's cheeks and ears. "I knew I had to, to get better," he says, bashfulness taking over, his gaze lowers until he is inspecting the sidewalk with unusual interest. "I'm not gonna lie, the first two months sucked a little, I thought I'd get there and sorta learn Portuguese! Can you believe that? But the rest was amazing."_

_A hand ruffles his hair then, large and calloused from years of constant practice. "Like I said, hardcore." Shouyo finally looks at him then, Atsumu's handsome face is twisted into this little grin that manages to be both adorable and enticing. "I'm sure you had a lot of fun too."_

_That makes Shouyo laugh. "I was mostly focused on volley, you know that." He grins up at Atsumu. "But I did have a great time, learned to dance too. Everyone's so open over there, I met a bunch of people. Oh, and I learned to make cocktails."_

_He's gotten too excited, he realizes, when his voice echoes back to him from God knows where. Usually, people are telling him to quiet down by now, even back in Brazil. But Atsumu seems just as giddy as Shouyo feels. "That's something I gotta see for myself," he says as they round a corner, and Shouyo's hotel comes into view._

_And that's when he knows, he's not quite ready for the night to end, he’s not ready to go to bed._

_Not just yet._

_"Thanks for walking me." Shouyo starts, searching for the best way to ask, though that's hard because he's not sure what he's asking. He opens his mouth to give it his best shot but Atsumu is already speaking._

_"Can't lose a spiker as good as you before I've set to ya in Tobio's face." He says, smug. "Besides, we haven't hit that combo yet."_

_"Right, uh-" Shouyo looks away, belly twisting with nerves for the first time in a while. "Do you have anything to do tomorrow?"_

_Atsumu cranes his head to the side. "Nope," he answers. "There's no practice, right?"_

_"Yeah," Shouyo shivers, gaze meeting Atsumu's, the older man looks startled. "I have a bottle of Cachaca, do you wanna come up for a taste?"_

_Atsumu is silent for a second, eyes wide, but just as Shouyo is about to apologize and recant the invitation, he lets out a long breath that morphs into a laugh. "Sure, but only if I get to see those cocktail-making kicks ya were just bragging about."_

_The affirmative surprises Shouyo more than it should, really, he was the one that asked. Maybe it's because they're both adults, and if by the time he left for Brazil, Shouyo retained any naivete -which he barely did- that would have had him understand this as anything other than a possible hook up, he definitely has long since lost it on the other side of an ocean. "Oh, shut up Miya, I'm good." he quips as they make way for the hotel's doors._

.

.

Half past four am on a Thursday is a terrible time to be awake.

And in the middle of winter no less.

Atsumu hasn't had his dose of coffee, maybe that's why he's feeling so fatalistic.

Or maybe it's because, after two years of being his teammate, his spiker, Shouyo _left_. And Atsumu accepted he'd leave and-

And he accepted his little spot of infatuation for the ginger never had a chance.

But here he is, ten months later picking the ginger up from the airport with a change of winter clothes for him in the back and a thermos full of hot chocolate because Shouyo doesn't need coffee to be himself.

He's _that_ kind of guy.

_**FROM: SHOUYO- 6:17** _

_Already landed hot stuff :D_

_Where r u parked?_

_**FROM: ME- 6:20** _

_Parking lot D_

_Right by the recycling bins_

_Gotcha chocolate ;)_

_**FROM: SHOUYO- 6:21** _

_:D Racking up those setter points are u?_

_OMW_

_**sent a sticker**_

At least Atsumu hasn't changed cars since he dropped Shouyo off to this same airport last time, it is bleeding cold outside and he's in his pajamas- If he had to get out of the car to find the ginger he’d likely freeze and die. Atsumu hums, sipping at his own thermos and resting his head on the wheel, he probably dozes off for a second, because the next thing he knows, someone is bursting into his passenger seat. Someone red-headed and red-nosed wearing about three sweaters and some sort of colorful poncho.

"Hey! 'Tsumu!" And then that someone's arms are wrapping around him his cold nose is pressed to Atsumu's cheek, and he smells like fruit and sunshine.

And ok, that last one's cliche, low-hanging fruit, but it's also true. "Hey, buddy." Atsumu has the sun in his arms again and he really does not want to let it go. "Missed me, didn't ya?"

"'Course I missed you, you're in a tie for my number one favorite setter, after all." Hinata pulls away, a little smile on his face. "Now, I believe I was promised chocolate."

And just like that Shouyo's here, like he never left, with his little jokes and his wild, wild hair that's getting long again. Atsumu looks him over, once and again, his sweaters, the backpack sitting on his knees. "Right beside ya," he says, gesturing at the thermos on the cupholder. "Yer not waiting for me to feed it to you, right?"

Shouyo rolls his eyes. "Wouldn't be opposed to it, I don't even know what year it is." Then he holds up the thermos and his eyes grow wide, they sparkle. "My thermos! You remembered."

"You did leave it at my place." Finally, finally, he can look away. Just because he doesn't want to look at the way Hinata's lips wrap around the mouth of the custom thermos with its little wings and the faded writing on the side. "Lucky we have time before the next flight."

"Someone's grumpy." Hinata hums as the car purrs to life under them. "Not a fan of sunrise runs anymore Atsumu?"

"I'm on vacation, shut up," He answers, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Shouyo stares at him for a moment. "Stop being sour, I'll make you breakfast as thanks. I don't think I can sleep."

Atsumu laughs, and the rest of the drive home is Shouyo twittering about Brazil, as Shouyo does. The inside of the car is warm, and while Atsumu didn't change cars, he did change houses and he takes the long way around.

He can't help it, not when Shouyo looks like _that_.

The way that the rising sun bounces off of Shouyo's hair follows him all the way to his bed -Shouyo, it seems, is still too wired to sleep, so he turns on the TV and settles into the couch, promising to wake Atsumu up later-filling his dreams as well. 

And then it's still there by the time he's woken up with the smell of grilled fish and coffee.

Atsumu stretches up, rolling his shoulders. It's winter, so the sunlight seeping into his studio apartment is pretty meager, and the smells make his stomach growl.

He finds Shouyo leaning back on the cabinets while sitting on the counter, a cup of tea in his hand, and a plateful of breakfast beside him. "Just in time." The ginger grins, "Knew the smell would wake you up."

"No wonder," Atsumu yawns. "What time's it? Like eleven?" He picks the plate up from the counter and turns around to pad over to the couch, munching on a piece of grilled fish. Shouyo is following, he knows without having to see.

It seems after all his time, Atsumu can still sense those soft footsteps. "Quarter to," Hinata says, flopping down right beside him. "Are you still doing that thing where you don't eat dinner?"

And Shouyo, Shouyo doesn’t seem to have forgotten the little things about him either. "Nope, but I forgot last night." He shakes his head. "Or whatever that was, really I feel like it's midnight or something."

“Hey, aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be jet-lagged?”The younger man chuckles, legs going up on Atsumu's coffee table. "I tried on the clothes, thanks, they're all my size."

Atsumu shrugs. "Couldn't let ya freeze." he cranes his head to the side. "You do have a tux though, right?"

Shouyo is sitting close, his fingers brushing against the soft material of Atsumu's sleeping sweatpants. "Tsukishima's bringing one for me."

Atsumu can feel his eyebrows shoot up. "Are those not supposed to be fitted?" he snickers. "I mean, there's a bit of a height difference." Shouyo just glares at him, still playful, he's long since outgrown most sensitivity about his height. Besides, Atsumu _is_ right.

"How long do we have until the other flight?" Hinata groans, stretching out on the couch. "I hate jetlag."

Humming, Atsumu puts the plate to the side and does the same. "It's at three." he turns to look at Shouyo. "Take the bed, I'll wake ya up at one." The shorter man's eyes are fixed on him now, those wide, _predator_ eyes that feel like they're scooping the heart right out of his chest when light hits them.

So it seems, his feelings are just as obstinate as he is.

.

.

_Hinata's hotel room is the same as any other hotel room Atsumu figures._

_Except it sort of isn't, it's Atsumu's job to notice these things. There's a huge suitcase on one corner, with clothes overflowing from it. There are clothes thrown over the back of the small chair and two books on the desk, one that looks like a manga volume and another that is titled 'A comprehensive story of Volleyball.' Hinata has arranged all his sneakers at the foot of the bed, and though some look worn, it's obvious that they are kept in pristine condition._

_Atsumu walks to the chair, pulls it out, and sits backward on it. In the meanwhile Shouyo skips over to the tiny kitchenette with the bag of limes, the plastic cups, and the sugar that they bought at the convenience store downstairs. Atsumu has been watching him for a week now, and it's still jarring to see how he has grown. Though not much in height, Hinata's back is wide, and his arms are thick, and his tapered waist leads down to a shapely, rounded behind, and legs that are just-_

_Those thoughts are so inappropriate, maybe he's still a little tipsy, this whole 'being a professional athlete' thing kind of requires him not to drink too often._

_But today's special, he figures._

_Atsumu is not an idiot, and he's not naive, and-_

_Hinata invited him up, he could've said no, maybe he should have, seeing as they're on the same team now. But truth is, he didn't want to. Truth is, Atsumu has always been hungry, and the moment that Hinata tentatively asked him to come up here, that hunger multiplied tenfold. It blazed. It's blazing._

_"You like your drinks sweet, right?" The ginger calls, throwing a dazzling smile over his shoulder at Atsumu._

_He laughs. "Yer the one who knows how to make 'em, Shouyo," he says, leaning forward over the back of the chair, turning the manga volume from the table on his hands. "This place's starting to look lived in tho'. Have you looked for an apartment?"_

_"Nope," Hinata says, walking over with two cups in their hands, he has even put a little rind of lime on the rim of each of the clear plastic cups. "Why? You know of any, I don't have that many savings, and this place is draining them."_

_Reaching out for the drink, Atsumu smirks at him. "I've been walking past a vacant sign in my building for like three weeks." He shrugs, taking a sip. "This is good. Y'could open a bar if this whole volleyball thing doesn't work out." He breathes the citrusy, tart smell of the drink. "Anyways, I know nothing about the place, but it might be a start."_

_There's a small smile on Hinata's face when he flops down on the bed in front of Atsumu, legs spread just slightly, leaning back on his hands. "Are you kidding? I'm grateful. I've never dealt with stuff like that, Bokuto-san mentioned something about taxes too-" he grimaces. "Ugh, I hope it's furnished." He takes a sip of the drink. "I have no furniture.” He bemoans. “Mmm, I'm really going to miss Brazilian food, it's only just setting in."_

_"Well, I could interest ya in some very good Japanese." Atsumu smiles. "If we're ever in Hyogo, 'Samu's a prick, but his food only keeps getting better."_

_Hinata bursts into laughter, throwing his head back. "You know, I never believed he'd just quit like that." He inhales deeply. "But it seems he's doing very good with his business."_

_"He always liked to show off cooking." he chuckles. "Our Grammy taught him, he was always helping out at the kitchen when she cooked. And pulling faces at me from behind her, of course."_

_"Well, that's how siblings are," Hinata responds, a slow smile creeping over his face. "Natsu's all quippy now, she was a cute little kid when I left, and now I'm not cool enough."_

_Hinata talks of his sister with a fondness that is so sweet, it's like he goes soft just saying her name. Atsumu feels an unexplainable need to smile. "She look like you?" he asks, and somehow his drink's almost empty._

_"Hell yeah, she does!" Hinata says, fishing in his back pocket for a wallet and reaching it out to Atsumu. "Look!" The person in the picture is indeed, nearly identical to him, she has short, wild ginger hair and those large eyes that just seem to take in all the light in the room. If her face wasn't a lot more rounded than Hinata's -and she wasn’t wearing lip gloss-, Atsumu would think this is just an older picture of him._

_Atsumu gives the wallet back, when his fingers brush Hinata's it feels like a shock goes up his arm. "She's cute," Atsumu says, smirking. "Mostly because she looks like you." It's said without thinking because it's a fact because objectively, Hinata is good looking and he only seems to get more charming with the time that passes._

_The ginger blinks owlishly at him for a second, then his already flushed cheeks go slightly redder. "Uh, aren't you uncomfortable over there?" he says, leaning back even further on the bed. "This thing's comfy." He laughs. "Real soft and bouncy."_

_And Atsumu knows that he can say no, he should say no. He would if he didn't want the other man so_ damn _much. But still, an odd sort of nervousness travels up his spine. "Sure, my back could use a rest," he says, grinning, and then he lifts his empty cup, eyes flying to Hinata's -just as empty- one. "Fancy a refill?"_

_Hinata shifts to the side and hands him the cup. "You should just bring the bottle," he says._

_Atsumu nods and goes to get it, but he stops in his tracks as he turns around to look at where Hinata is laying on his back, a bright splotch of color on the white duvet. The window above him offers an excellent high view of the well-lit streets outside, and he looks like a picture, a painting. For the first time in his life, he wishes he had some kind of artistic skill so he could have a way to keep this moment for himself. "You appreciating the view?" Hinata calls, grinning with all of his teeth, and Atsumu realizes he's not the hungry predator, he's the prey, and oh, he's happy about it._

_He knows his smirk radiates smugness, but he can't care. "It's a nice view Shouyo. Can't blame me." He walks over to the bed, taking a swig of the bottle._

_As he approaches the bed, Atsumu takes in the details. The lines of Hinata's shirt, the rolled-up hems of his jeans, the way his lips are just the right coral tone to be complimented by his hair. He wordlessly hands the other man the bottle, letting his body fall on the -really, quite soft-duvet. "Well, is it better up close," Hinata says, taking his own swig and stretching out his free hand to brush over the short hairs of Atsumu's undercut._

_His breath catches in his throat, and when he takes the bottle from the other's calloused hand it's to screw the cap back on. "Shou-"_

_But Hinata's lips stop him, as much of an affirmative answer as it can be. Neither of them is drunk, tipsy at most, and Hinata tastes like sweet, sweet liquor, and musk. And that feeling Atsumu gets when a play goes just the way he's planned it. He smells like the dawn and the sea. He- “Are we doing this, ‘Tsumu?”_

_Atsumu leans back, all the answer he gives Hinata is an adoring look as he pulls the thin v-neck he’s wearing over his head, the seams stretch form the force, he swears he can hear a pop, but Atsumu can’t care right now._

_There’s a moment then, a moment where the ginger’s eyes are wide and doe-like, the slightest hint of doubt fills them but it is soon devoured by hunger. Then Hinata is on top of him, those strong thighs spread, bracketing his hips._

_And then, Atsumu realizes that_ _he_ _is being devoured whole._

.

.

The plane ride is uneventful, or at least it seems so to Shouyo, who is sure he crashed before even the fight safety instructions video ended. He only woke up when Atsumu shook him, saying that the staff was waiting for them, _specifically_ to vacate the plane.

That was embarrassing.

At least the white and blue ensemble -one of the few that Atsumu got him- fits him well enough that the sleepy heat from the plane doesn’t leave Shouyo as they pack themselves into the last row of the bus that’s supposed to get them to the hotel in less than an hour.

Atsumu makes him sit by the window. When he sees Shouyo rest his head on the window's glass, he immediately pulls him over so his head rests on the setter’s lap. “Ya almost fell on the plane.” He grumbles, looking away, a soft dusting of pink to his cheeks. “I don’t wanna have to google where there might be someone to stitch yer hard head up.”

Atsumu is one of those people that look like they might be curse-slinging bastards but are just a little plushie inside. Like Tanaka-senpai. Only worse because as soon as he's tired his hooded eyes soften, and he pouts, then Atsumu doesn’t look like a bad boy at all.

And Shouyo got to see him like that very, very often while he was with the Black Jackals.

He got used to it, and to a lot of other stuff.

So much so that he found it a little too hard to leave when the -fabulous, everything he ever dreamed of- contract with Asas Brazil came through.

And that was saying something because he had no doubts the first time he left. Many fears, yes -among which were counted reptiles, all the tropical diseases Tsukishima had fun mentioning in front of him, and strange, gigantic insects- but no doubts.

The first few months were hard, and he was homesick often. Always missing someone or something. But in the end hi dreams kept him moving and he got himself new things to cling to.

Somehow, the second time was also hard, volleyball-wise too, because he got way too used to Atsumu. He got too used to Atsumu in everything, really, but volleyball was the most glaring aspect of them all.

About ten minutes into the trip, Atsumu dozes off, out of the corner of his eye, Shouyo can see his head drooping to the side, using the-absolutely ridiculous, animal print- scarf he wears as a pillow. For a second, as he breathes in the familiar scent of the setter’s cologne, he feels like reaching a hand up to trace his defined jaw.

It brings back memories, memories that both of them agreed to suppress, as it was easier at the time.

Not that there are many memories like that, they're just big ones.

Shouyo huffs, blowing out his cheeks in frustration. He wonders if that wasn’t a huge mistake more often than not, but in the end, he supposes, things wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

And Shouyo likes his life, he's happy.

Though he supposes that there ae things he could do with, that’s not a particular track of thought that he goes down often.

In the end, he doesn't sleep through the drive up to the hotel, somehow, his eyes keep getting drawn to Atsumu’s long eyelashes and his barely-grown roots and the way his thighs are solid under Shouyo’s head.

“Alright people, I know you’re all sleep-deprived but here’s where you get off!” he hears a voice call out from the front.

Shouyo sits up, stretching his stiff joints and reaching out to pinch Atsumu’s cheek lightly. “Hey, TsumTsum we’re here already.” He laughs. “Am I gonna have to carry you?”

“Mmmm Shou.” One of Atsumu’s eyes peeks open. “You don’t call me TsumTsum.” He says, as he stands up and off the seat, voice raspy.

“Yeah, but the person who does is waiting for us.” Shouyo remarks. “C’mon, Bokuto-san’s mum is going to get pissed if we show up looking all jet laggy and ruffled to the rehearsal dinner.” He stands up as well, following Atsumu out of the bus and to retrieve their bags from the pile outside. “She’s supposed to be a real hardass.”

“D’ya think _you_ can make it through thatawake?” Atsumu says, scrutinizing Shouyo’s face as he gets both their bags -Atsumu is holding his dry-cleaner’s bag with the suit he's wearing to the wedding inside- from the huge pile of luggage. God, are people coming to stay here for a month or what? There’s literally a suitcase that’s as big as Shouyo in the pile.

-and he’s _not_ short, at least compared to most people, his height is perfectly average, both here and in Brazil-

Shouyo grins, though Atsumu is somewhat right. “I’m not too sure what day or time it is, but I think I’ll be fine.” He swigs his backpack over his shoulder and looks down at his rumpled clothes. “Just don't let me have any booze.”

Atsumu grins. “Understood, I’ll drink any champagne you don’t want.”

“Haha, very funny.” Shouyo grunts. “If I have to carry you, I’m making a big show out of it. I know how to get Omi-kun to take pictures.”

They make the short walk up to the hotel doors silently. The other tourists are chattering happily amongst themselves, while Shouyo can only squint at the setting sun and the way its light glares off the white marble of the modern-looking building.

The reception is full, just as expected, but Atsumu’s long legs manage to grant them a pretty good spot in line. “’Tsumu, where were ya? Yer friends from the team are convinced ya got eaten by bears or somethin’.” A voice calls, as they wait. It’s always struck Shouyo as odd that Osamu and Atsumu have such distinctive voices… no one seems to agree with him on that though, Shouyo can tell them apart perfectly. “Oh, Shouyo-kun, nice to see ya, how’s Brazil?”

Osamu stopped dyeing his hair a couple of years ago, it has grown out nicely, dark and thick. “Hot!” Shouyo answers, looking over the man’s outfit, he’s dressed smartly for the cold and seems to be one of those insufferable people that don’t look like over bundled ducks in winter clothing. "Thank god our gym has AC! How’s the shop going Myaa-san?”

Osamu grimaces. “You too?” he grumbles. “I thought I told Keiji-“

“Is someone mentioning my lovely fiancé?!” A booming voice enters the fray, Shouyo could tell that one apart without seeing too. Even though Bokuto is hard to miss anyways, decked out in a puffy, neon green winter jacket and throwing his arms around the twins. "Hey, hey hey! 'Samu! why didn't you tell me TsumTsum was here!" He exclaims, and then his eyes focus on Shouyo. “My disciple! You made it!”

Bokuto rushes for him and Shouyo meets him in the middle. “I said I would Bokuto-san!”

Really, at this point, he could be more informal, but Shouyo can’t shake the habit. Bokuto picks him up easily, Just as the lady from the front desk clears her throat behind them. “Next customer.”

Atsumu steps around them, a fond look on his face as he lifts his hand to ruffle Bokuto’s hair into even more of a mess than it already is. “I’ll take care of those, the reservation’s in my name anyways.” He says, gaze meeting Shouyo’s for a second.

Shouyo gives him a thankful smile and turns back to Bokuto whose golden eyes are rapidly shifting between Shouyo's face and Atsumu's back. "Finally! Congrats!" He hoots, enveloping Shouyo in another hug. 

In the background, he hears Osamu chuckle. What the hell? Atsumu just made the reservations because Shouyo once got online scammed and he refuses to use his own cards for online shopping now. They're friends, friends do things like that for each other. Moreover, teammates- Oh.

They're not teammates anymore though.

_Oh._

.

.

_Shouyo's groggy mind takes a while to catch up._

_It's not his fault, he's comfortable, and it somewhat feels like waking up after a long bus trip home in his high school days did._

_That is until he notices the muscular arm wrapped around his middle, heavy, solid, and reassuring. The tips of Atsumu's fingers are just slightly curled in, brushing softly over the smooth skin of Shouyo's lower abdomen._

_It's not a big realization, he wasn't that drunk. He knows that he -for lack of a better word- seduced Atsumu into his bed last night._

_And it was definitely the right choice because that was the best sex Shouyo has had since... He wants to say Oikawa, really, but he was pretty drunk for that one._

_It was good, better than good, mind-numbing, star-exploding, passing out from just how good it felt,_ good _._

_Good god, he wonders who Atsumu has slept with before because they're crazy if they ever stopped._

_Careful not to wake the other man up, Shouyo turns around in the circle of his arms, legs curling up into his chest. Atsumu looks peaceful and well-rested, hair in disarray, barely-there little veins adorning the translucent skin of his lower eyelids. He would be cute if he wasn't also drooling on the pillow._

_As if noticing Shouyo's gaze on him, his nose wrinkles all of a sudden, and he yawns. His eyes open slowly, unfocused for the first few seconds, dark lashes stark where they brush over the ridge of his brow. "Watcha looking at Shouyo?" is the first thing he says, voice heavy with sleep. "S' not polite to watch teammates sleep."_

_"I don't think any of this is what's polite for teammates to do Atsumu," Shouyo shoots back, glancing at the covers that hide the fact that they're both buck naked, and Atsumu has a huge bite mark on his thigh from where Shouyo got too excited._

_Atsumu's lips curl into something that might've started as a smirk but ends up being more of a sleepy half-smile. "Nah, I think ya were pretty polite Shou." He yawns. "'cept from this, 's way too early."_

_Shouyo chuckles. "Do you even know what time it is?" He asks, even as he lets the arm around him pull his body closer._

_Atsumu responds with a breathless laugh. "Nope, it's just early." he huffs a warm puff of breath against Shouyo's collarbone. It makes him shiver. "And y'already let me spend the night."_

_"You did claim you couldn't walk, don't put that on me," Shouyo protests. "But fine, I wanna sleep a bit more too. And then-"_

_He's not that sure what to say. It should be easy, it was easy, with Oikawa. But the Oikawa was going back to Argentina and- "An' then?" Atsumu mumbles, the bastard, he's tossed this in Shouyo's direction, and now he has to say it._

_Or not. "And then we go to the park, I've got a ball somewhere in here," he says, head whipping back to the corner of the room where he last saw the ball. Partly because he's not sure what else he wants to say. Continuing with this would be a bad idea, and there is the team to think about. And though Shouyo doesn't know Atsumu that well, he does know that neither of them will put something uncertain like this, before volleyball._

_The setter laughs. "Of course ya do Shouyo," he huffs. "As teammates?" He clarifies, and Shouyo knows he's thinking the very same thing. His golden eyes radiate worry where they were all liquid-lava heat last night._

_"Yeah, as teammates," Shouyo responds, closing his eyes and relaxing into Atsumu's body, his throat dry._

.

.

Here, in the far north of Japan, Atsumu doesn't understand many things.

Like why the rehearsal dinner is being held two days before the wedding, and in a bare room with everyone in their ski clothing.

Or how Bokuto has not two, not three, but four older sisters, and seems to share his generally hyperactive demeanor with at least three of them. Of course, balancing that out, Bokuto's mom and dad are two, earnest-faced ex-militaries. His mom especially can put the -previously damn well near a riot- Black Jackal's group in a straight line with nothing more than a look.

She seems nice, in general, it's just that she looks like she could break Atsumu in two -she's almost as tall as him, oh _god_ -. Bokuto seems to be the most oblivious of this, hanging off her and making little jokes like he's out having drinks with the team. Though, it's probably because, as they learn very early on, he's a mama's boy through and through.

Like right now, he's about to go up to the stage to give his 'practice speech' -as if there's even an _actual_ speech-, she's standing with him to the side, fixing any straight locks from his gelled up hair and tugging at his lapels lovingly. Bokuto is smiling in a way that's very reminiscent of a small puppy. Atsumu chances a look at Akaashi, wondering if the other might find it funny, but finds that he's being fussed over by all of Bokuto's sisters, so he probably can't even see it.

One waiter comes around to refill their flutes, Atsumu hands him his with what he likes to think is an elegant gesture. Osamu scoffs at him from the spot beside him on the table. On his other side is that one annoyingly tall middle blocker that was Shouyo's teammate in high school, and now plays for the Sendai Frogs.

And they do seem to have become very good friends already. 

The waiter refills the flutes -and this, he can say, however, terrifying Bokuto's family is, they got good champagne even for the rehearsal dinner- and hands each of them over.

Beside him, Shouyo downs his in half a second. "Shou-"

"Hey, that's supposed to be for the toast." The blond beside Osamu hisses. "Are you trying to get drunk?"

Shouyo's forehead creases. "Why don't you stop being a stick in the mid for once in your life Tsukishima." He hisses back. "Unlike you, I'm not a lightweight."

The blond's eyebrows rise in a sardonic gesture. "For your height, maybe." he huffs, and then Shouyo is almost leaping over the table -which he actually can do, as everyone present knows, making the whole thing a lot scarier- probably to pull Tsukishima's hair. It takes Atsumu and Sakusa, who is sitting on Hinata's other side along with the Best man -some guy with hair like a chicken's tail that Atsumu vaguely remembers from high school-.

"Um-" The waiter intervenes shyly. "It's no problem to refill the customer's flute."

Shouyo turns around, eyes wide. "Please," he says, breathless, handing the man the flute.

"Thought ya weren't going to drink." He mutters at the ginger. And Atsumu's trained eyes don't miss how Shouyo's won't meet them. The waiter hands the ginger a newly filled flute. "I'm takin' that," Atsumu says, already noting the slight flush high on Shouyo's cheeks.

"TsumTsum, you're not my babysitter." Shouyo coos, voice filled with fake sweetness. "Give it back."

He glares at the shorter man. "Not until the toast."

"Fiiiine," Shouyo says, just as Bokuto taps on the mic at the front of the room, and everyone's attention shifts to him -it is, after all, the last speech of the evening-.

Except for Atsumu's, he spends an extra second frowning at Shouyo, wondering what the hell is going on with him. This is another thing he doesn't understand. Shouyo was just fine before they registered, and right after he turned to a jittery mess.

"Uh so-" he starts, trailing off after exactly two syllables. The man's golden eyes seem to seek out something in the room. As soon as he finds it -Akaashi's face, it seems- a grin slowly unfurls across his face, wide and bright enough to blind. "So, I'm not using my big speech ideas here cuz-" he opens his arms wide, showing off the traffic cone-orange thermal shirt he's wearing, "-this isn't the actual wedding. But Imma thank you all for being here and indulging us in the early rehearsal dinner and everything. I know most of you live way far away, some people couldn't make it to this and all. So Keiji and I are stoked you're all here to share this with us... Well, mostly me, I wanted a huge wedding, and I'm marrying an amazing man that indulged me! Anyway-" he glances to his right."-I think that's enough for a try. And since the wedding isn't tomorrow, I thought we could take advantage of having this hall rented out anyways and have a little party." He lifts the flute in his hand, and everyone drinks.

The guy sitting beside Sakusa grins like a maniac and leans over the table. "How about we all split a bottle?" He asks, And Atsumu recognizes him as the con-man looking guy from the first official match he ever played with Shouyo too. Across from him, Tsukishima frowns at the guy, who just shrugs. "It's what the grooms want."

Shouyo perks up. "Well, I'm in!" He says, and then, faster than Atsumu can see, he steals back the flute of champagne he was withholding. Right after Shouyo downs it, Atsumu finds those mahogany-colored eyes staring straight at him. "How about you Atsumu? Chicken?"

He hesitates for a second, but frankly, he and Shouyo have adjoining rooms, and his brother has sent a couple of looks Tsukishima's way -that the blond has reciprocated- which make him really need a drink. "Calling chicken was unnecessary." He grins at Shouyo. "Let's go nuts."

Even Sakusa doesn't manage to weasel out of it. One bottle becomes two, and then there's music playing, one by one the people in their table get dragged to the small dancefloor. 

Atsumu doesn't get this drunk, usually, but he knows most of the people here aside from Bokuto and Akaashi's families and it's like being in high school all over again. Everyone's dancing and doing stupid stuff and there's even a karaoke segment -which the best man with the chicken hair nails-. And Shouyo, Shouyo is dancing too, he's good, always has been, though maybe Atsumu is drunk too.

But then he's dancing beside Shouyo too and maybe they're scandalizing everyone, maybe not, he doesn't care.

There isn't even much in the way of lights, it's just the regular ones dimmed down, everyone looks ridiculous.

Until he sees his brother kissing Tsukishima, and it's really a bit _too_ much like high school.

Beside him, Shouyo stops too, eyes traveling to them. "Ughh, gross, I thought I saw him kiss Kuroo-san earlier too. I figured they were back together" he huffs, leaning into Atsumu, all sweaty in that tight-fitting thermal shirt. As they watch chicken-hair approach the couple.

Atsumu's not sure why he is still watching -probably just in case his brother is about to get his face bashed in-, but then rooster hair just smirks at them and walks to the door. Osamu and Tsukishima follow him with equally creepy grins on their faces. "I think I'm hallucinating."

Shouyo shudders. "No, no. You're not, I saw it too. I can't unsee it," he mumbles, grasping the sleeve of Atsumu's jacket. "C'mon 'Tsumu, I think we should go up too."

And Atsumu is drunk, but even sober he wouldn't think of it twice. This is Shouyo after all, one of his best friends -if not his best friend-, his teammate, his spiker, the one he decided would be just that. So he lets himself be led, not a single suspicious thought in his mind. At least until they get in the elevator so they can go to their eight-floor rooms. That's when Shouyo -Shouyo who weighs five kilograms less than him even though he's half a foot shorter- slams him into the wall of the elevator and proceeds to press his lips to Atsumu's.

He doesn't give that half a thought either, just kisses back, hungry. Immensely hungry, and for about three seconds that's all which drives him, hunger for the warmth that his hands clutch at. 

But then Shouyo breathes out, hands burying in Atsumu's hair and tugging, and he comes back to reality for a fraction of a second. It wouldn't be enough for anyone else, but Atsumu is used to assessing, to deciding in a fraction of a second. And Shouyo is in no state to do any sort of deciding in any amount of time.

He doesn't push him away then, doesn't think he would even if he wanted to. Besides, knowing drunk Shouyo it would only make him even more stubborn. Instead, Atsumu draws his face back, eyes never leaving Shouyo's confused ones, and he gently coaxes the hands in his hair out of it. "Yer drunk."

Shouyo smiles, wide and bright. "You too. Your cheeks are all red."

"Not that much," Atsumu answers, voice dragging only a little. "C'mon, we gotta go to bed."

The ginger blinks at him for a second, just as the elevator dings open. "Alright," he says, suspiciously compliant. 

Atsumu learns why soon enough, he makes sure to get Hinata to his door, then whispers a quick goodnight, and turns back to slip into his own room. 

Only, Shouyo follows him. 

Atsumu narrows his eyes at him. "Yer supposed to go to bed, didja lose yer key?"

"Nope. But I'm not giving it to you." Shouyo shrugs. "You said _we_ were going to bed, so that's what I plan to do."

"I didn't-" Atsumu blinks a couple of times, then groans when it all dawns on him. The gods that Kita used to talk about seem to have decided to use this wedding to test his resolve in some sort of twisted way.

He repeats the process of getting Shouyo to his room door, with the same result as before. By the third time, both of them are getting distinctly sleepy, and Shouyo's clinging to his shoulder.

From down the hall, someone peeks out of a room. "Would you mind? Some of us are sleeping." The lady hisses before slamming her door.

Atsumu sighs. "Sorry, ma'am," then he mutters under his breath. "Old hag" He turns his head to the side to look at Shouyo. "Ok, fine!" He concedes. "But we're going to _sleep_! Gotcha?!"

Shouyo nods eagerly, and Atsumu doesn't believe him for a second. He likes to think h's crafty when he's drunk.

As soon as they go inside, Atsumu tries the door that joins the two rooms. It's locked.

Plan B it is, then.

As soon as the other exits his bathroom, Atsumu picks up the duvet and goes in for the kill, needing to tackle the ginger to the bed to even have a chance. "Hey! What the fuck! Atsumu! Waaaaghhhhhh!"

"It's for yer own good." Atsumu huffs, trying to keep the ginger's flailing limbs in check.

He and Shouyo end up in a disorganized heap of limbs and fabric on top of the bed, but he does manage to wrap the ginger in the duvet securely. 

When he peeks over the top of the bundle, there's the most annoyed pout that has ever existed -pushed out lip and all, he _has_ to look away- waiting for him "You're a little shit." Shouyo grumbles. 

"I just know ya." Atsumu huffs, glaring in kind. "Tell me ya weren't gonna jump me as soon as you had the chance?"

"In a good way! Maybe?" Shouyo whines then blows his cheeks out like some sort of rodent. "Fiiine, I was gonna jump you, have it your way." He lets his head fall on the soft pillow Atsumu has placed under it.

They stay like that for a while, Atsumu's grip growing slacker with sleep until he's not really holding Shouyo down at all. The ginger doesn't move though. After a while, Atsumu sighs and drags a blanket over his own body. "Yer gonna thank me tomorrow."

There's a defeated, sleepy sigh form the bundle. "Maybe, but I'm not gonna like it," Shouyo mutters something that Atsumu can't catch, soft and distant. "Hey 'Tsumu?"

Atsumu hums.

"What if we weren't drunk?" The question hangs in the air for a second, heavy, and loaded. In his chest Atsumu’s heart does what must be a triple flip or something. He has to take a deep breath and remind himself that the ginger is drunk several times before he can even think of answering.

Atsumu curls into himself, hands fidgeting with the edge of the duvet trapping Shouyo. "I dunno. Go to sleep," he mutters because he _doesn't_ know. And he's kinda scared to picture it.

For a moment, Shouyo is silent. "You're my favorite setter, you know that?" his voice is slurred, barely intelligible.

"'Course." Atsumu whispers.

And then, at some point, sleep claims both of them.

.

.

_Atsumu goes in ready for embarrassment, and side-eyes, and stuttering._

_Maybe also some tripping over stuff, both from him and from the ginger._

_What he finds is Hinata doing a handstand on Bokuto's shoulders, back arched, the tips of his toes brushing the crown of his head._

_"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto spreads his arms, dangerously jostling Hinata on top of him. "Can you take a picture of us, TsumTsum?" he asks and Atsumu can only gape for a few seconds before Hinata barely turns his head towards him, making him wobble a little._

_There's a narrowing of the ginger's eyes. "Sometime this century, please, this isn't exactly a comfortable position."_

_Where he is, his head is higher than Atsumu's. And he can't help but look up at the elegant, effortless arch of Hinata's spine. He doesn't look it but the ginger really is that flexible, Atsumu has first-hand experience on that. "Alright, alright." Atsumu huffs. "Ya can't give me a second? And don't fall, you might split your head open!"_

_"TsumTsum." Bokuto frowns. "Don't be dramatic, I can catch him."_

_"And I've fallen from higher, on sand!" Hinata protests. "Now take the picture," he grimaces. "Please?"_

_"Hey! Sand's supposed to be soft." Atsumu rolls his eyes at him as he pulls out his phone from deep in his pocket. "Alright, pose..." Bokuto lifts his arms at the sides, flexing so his muscles bulge, and Hinata simply looks forward, grinning widely. "Yer core strength really is something," he mutters, to which he gets a smug laugh from Hinata._

_He manages to take three pictures in all, they're nice pictures, all in all, Bokuto looks built like a truck and Hinata looks like he could be in the Cirque du Soleil. Once Atsumu is done, he gives them a thumbs up, Hinata carefully uncurls himself and gets down from Bokuto's shoulders, presumably the same way he got on. And for like half of it, Atsumu's heart is in his throat. Even though he knows Hinata is about as delicate as a lump of concrete, and the one in real trouble in that position would be himself._

_"Hey! Don't forget to send them to the group chat!" Bokuto runs past him, clapping Atsumu on the back._

_Hinata grins at him, and it's all normal. "I'm all warmed up now," he says, brushing Atsumu's side as he walks towards the court. "Catch up and give me some tosses 'Tsumu!"_

_And it is, indeed all normal. Atsumu came here expecting awkwardness, but so it seems, he was the only one. He watches as Hinata goes off to practice his serves, greeting everyone that's already come into the gym cheerily._

_He is not sure why it stings, maybe it's his ego. Being overlooked or dismissed has always been annoying to him._

_Still, there is no doubt that it stings._

**II**

Something has been thumping somewhere for like forever. Shouyo shoots up on the bed, as well as he can, seeing as he's...rolled up in a duvet? Yeah, like some sort of human pig-in-a-blanket.

His head is pounding and his mouth is dry and the thumping- The thumping has to go.

What time is it? Did everything in his room switch sides?

That's when he notices -even through the hellish thumping- a figure curled up to his left. There, in his own separate blanket is Atsumu.

It's a little mean but the first thing Shouyo thinks is that _he_ definitely doesn't seem to mind the thumping.

The second is that he has somehow ended up in bed with Atsumu, fully clothed, which only makes everything more confusing.

The third is that one recurring thought he's had for the last five years that Atsumu looks really, very pretty while asleep.

But still, the thumping seems to have come closer and the godforsaken light coming from the undrawn blinds is stabbing his brain. So he stands up, wiggling out of the duvet, and rushes for the source of the noise. It turns out to be the door. "Shut up, I'm coming!" He grumbles and slams it open without thinking. 

And finds himself face to face with two very annoyed, familiar faces. "Hey, Miya! Have you see-" Kageyama's eyebrows rise all the way up to his hairline. "Good, you're not dead."

Beside him, Hoshiumi's birdlike eyes narrow. "Or he gave you the wrong room number and Miya is the dead one."

Shouyo is about to snap that they're right, that he most definitely gave the wrong number when Atsumu's voice floats over from behind him. "Is that Osamu?! Tell the fucker that I know what he did last night and to wait, 'm all sweaty."

Kageyama's eyes go so wide that it looks like they're just going to roll out of his skull. Hoshiumi just breaks out into a fit of full-on, hyena-like laughter. He even needs to brace himself on his boyfriend's shoulder for a second.

"It's not like that!" Shouyo hurries to say. "Look, I think I got drunk and- uh-" Kageyama's eyebrows rise even more, though it should be anatomically impossible. "I'm dressed! Ok! I'm dressed!!"

"I'm gonna shower." Atsumu groans and seemingly walks through the room behind Shouyo because both Kageyama and Hoshiumi's eyes follow something in the background. 

God, this is too much, first Bokuto and now…They aren't even letting Shouyo process this stuff! Can't they slow down for a second?

Then the dark-haired man gives him his widest, meanest smile. "Fucking finally." he scoffs. "If you still want to have breakfast with us, you have five minutes."

Shouyo glares at him viciously, and behind him, there's the sound of water running. "Shut up," he grits out. "I'll be out in a second."

From then on, he rushes to his room and showers as fast as he can -though he takes more than five minutes, he's sure- all the while trying to get back what happened last night. He's stepping out of the shiny, pattern tiled shower by the time he remembers the last piece.

And it's saying a lot for his reflexes that he doesn't break his nose on the floor when he trips as the memory of very much body checking Atsumu into the side of an elevator and kissing him assaults his mind.

Oh god, the only times Shouyo has been as drunk as last night were in the carnival, and everyone's drunk int he carnival, and-

And now even more people think they are a couple, even his drunk counterpart, it seems.

Alright, alright, _breathe,_ first he needs to apologize.

But by the time he gets back through to Atsumu's room, the setter is gone.

Kageyama and Hoshiumi are leaning against the wall outside. The setter smirks at him. "Sent him running, didn't you?"

"Oh, shut up Bakageyama." he looks at Hoshiumi. "I don't know how you stand to date him."

The white-haired man grins viciously. "He has his perks." And Shouyo remembers that he's not the most normal either. "You didn't run your Romeo off, his brother came to get him, they mentioned that friend of yours..."

And then that particular part of the night comes back to Shouyo and he's giggling. "We should go see Tsukishima," he says, meeting Kageyama's eyes. If they share anything aside from the obvious it's how fun embarrassing Tsukishima is. "And he's not my anything!"

Both the other men laugh, perfectly -and creepily- synchronized. "Riiiight."

Shouyo can only fume.

.

.

By the time they make it to the dining hall, they're out of pancakes and he has to listen to Kageyama complain while avoiding Hoshiumi's stare.

Until curiosity gets the better of the white-haired man. Thankfully, that happens by the tail end of breakfast. "Wait, no way, are you really not fucking Miya?"

Shouyo shrugs. "Well, duh-" he narrows his eyes at Hoshiumi. "We're close, that doesn't mean we're dating? I got drunk last night is all."

Hoshiumi mimics his shrug. "Because everyone in the Japanese league has been seeing Atsumu making eyes at you for like four years?"

"Bokuto was telling everyone he picked you up at the airport," Kageyama seconds. "You made the rip up here together, he made your reservations... It's pretty straightforward."

"B-but-" Shouyo can only sputter around his mouthful of cheese. "You two did the same-" He glares at Hoshiumi's raised eyebrow. "Oh shut up-" he turns to Kageyama. "You know we only slept together the once."

Hoshiumi's eyes widen, he turns to Kageyama. "You didn't tell me that."

"Like it's news?" Kageyama looks away. 

"Well, yeah, he does have a pattern." Hoshiumi shrugs. "Anyways, you two totally act like a couple," He says, sipping at his chocolate. "Have for years, didn't you live together?"

"We were neighbors!" At that, even Shouyo's own mind rebels, throwing memories of the long weekends spent basically living at one or other of their apartments right at him. They even shared a bed in accident several times, oh god. "Fuck." He says, dropping his forehead to the table.

Kageyama sighs. "Boke! Snap out of it!"

"Yeah, shouldn't you be happy?" Hoshiumi laughs at Shouyo's puzzled expression. "You like him, don't you?"

"Well, of course, I like him!" Shouyo grumbles. "But- Like that- I- Yes but- I live in Brazil!"

Then it's Kageyama that laughs, shoulders shaking. "That's your excuse?" he snickers. "Remind me what teams we play for?" he says, pointing at him and Hoshiumi.

"That's different!" Shouyo snaps, but Kageyama is indeed living in Italy when Hoshiumi is all the way in China.

And... he can't help but think that his contract is almost over, and Shouyo is definitely not wanting for offers.

"How?" The white-haired man asks, and Shouyo doesn't have an answer. "See?"

Shouyo can only glare at him as he chugs what's left of his chocolate. "I gotta go check something." He stands up, a little too fast, too forceful.

"I don't need to know" Kageyama calls after him. “And tell me if you find Tsukishima, we haven’t embarrassed him yet!”

"Don't get hurt, I still have to beat you." And so does Hoshiumi.

.

.

_Shouyo is coming back from his morning run -he's still building a route, with this being a city he doesn't know and everything- when he notices the minivan parked outside his building that definitely wasn't there three hours ago._

_It takes him a while to place the man that gets out of it too, as he uses the short wall of the flowerbeds for his post-run stretches._

_It shouldn't since he literally sees that face daily._

_Osamu's hair is now plain dark brown, a little longer than his brother wears it, and without the undercut. He's still stacked though._

_Shouyo has to stop himself. No, bad Shouyo._

_Still, Osamu notices him. "Hinata-kun! That idiot told me ya moved in the same building as him. I couldn't believe it!"_

_"It's close to the gym though." Shouyo quips. "How have you been Osamu-san? I heard you opened an Onigiri shop." He actually saw it in one of Bokuto and Akashi's Instagram posts._

_Osamu shrugs. "Yeah, it's called Onigiri Miya. We're still a little shop, I have to go back over there in a bit if I want to open up today at all."_

_"Oh, I'm sure it's good. I'd love to try it." Shouyo praises, "Maybe you can give me the address, I'll drop by."_

_"Sure," Osamu says. "But if ya wanna try anything, just help me get these boxes up. 'Tsumu can't cook for shit, so mom has me bring him food sometimes, he'll just have to share some."_

_Shouyo's eyes travel to the few containers on the back seat of the mini-van. He chuckles. "He hates sharing."_

_Osamu chuckles back. "Oh, he'll learn, he likes you."_

_It's been a couple of weeks since he slept with Atsumu, and everything has been relatively normal. He even helped Shouyo move in last Saturday, maybe it's fine, they're teammates. "Well, sure, if you insist!" Shouyo says, "Which one should I get?"_

_The building doesn't have an elevator, but five floors aren't that high._

_Atsumu only answers the door after a solid five minutes of knocking, hair sticking up to the side where it definitely was pressed to the pillow a second ago. Heavy eyelids drooping over his amber eyes. "'Sup 'Samu? D'ya really have to come this ear-" Then his eyes meet Shouyo's. "Shouyo, whatcha doing here."_

_"Yer sharing breakfast with him," Osamu says simply, hip checking his brother and walking right past him._

_He stares at Shouyo for another second. "Why d'ya look all sweaty?"_

_"I was finishing my morning run when I ran into Osamu-san." He snickers. "I can guess what you were doing, don't worry."_

_Atsumu steps aside to let him through. "I run at sundown. Are you one of those weird people that go runnin' when the sun isn't even up?"_

_"Aren't you grumpy in the morning Atsumu?" Shouyo sticks his tongue out at him as he steps in. "Maybe if you ran with me one of these days you wouldn't be."_

_"It's too early for this," Atsumu grumbles, closing the door behind Shouyo. "And you owe me dinner."_

_Shouyo smirks at him. "Sure, I'm a hell of a cook, remember? But if I owe you dinner, you owe me a run." He looks around the apartment. It's pretty nice, a little messy, but mostly bare. "Besides, it's already nine, it's not early." It is obvious Atsumu doesn't spend most of his time here. Still, the couch set looks comfortable and there's a corner of the living room that seems to have been repurposed into a sort of gym. Atsumu has a good set of weights at least._

_He follows Osamu's humming to the kitchen to unload the container though and the kitchen is a disaster. Or, better said, there's barely a kitchen. Atsumu seems to have only a gas stove and enough crockery for a grand total of one person, and absolutely thing to cook anything in other than the microwave plate. "Wow, if I was your mom I'd send Osamu-san to feed you every week too." He remarks and Atsumu snorts behind him. When Shouyo turns he's leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest._

_Fuck, why is he so attractive?_

_"Like you have any crockery and shit."_

_Shouyo preens. "I do now." He smirks, lowering the plastic container with what must be a week's worth of meals inside on the counter. "You didn't think I was going to ship crockery over from Brazil? I got a good set on sale on Wednesday."_

_From behind the fridge door, Osamu laughs "He's more of an adult than you 'Tsumu." He says, and Shouyo just knows the smug look that must be on his face because he has seen it on Atsumu's face countless times. "Tough yer kinda an overgrown toddler, so..."_

_"Oh, shove it 'Samu!" Atsumu's cheeks go pink, just slightly, and as he lifts himself up to sit on the empty kitchen counter -Atsumu probably won't mind, anyways-, Shouyo can't help but laugh._

.

.

"'Tsumu, I think yer boyfriend just rolled down right past us." It's Osamu's voice that saps him out of hat must be his fifth episode of spacing out this morning. He turns to his brother, eyes narrowed, but still can't help but glance in the direction that Osamu is pointing at. There are tracks in the snow at the end of which there is indeed, someone trying to get up though he's up to his ankles in snow, having fallen right outside the track.

The person who, apparently just rolled down the _kiddie_ slope -there's nothing else behind them-, does indeed look a lot like Hinata, though with the glare of the cold sunlight bouncing off the snow and the distance, it's hard to tell. "Whatcha runnin' your mouth off about?" He grumbles, avoiding looking at Osamu's smug smirk.

"If I were ya, I'd check." Osamu continues, paying no mind to Atsumu's glare. "He might actually get hurt."

"I don't think it's even him," Atsumu mumbles, and then, though he's like ten meters away, the person that just rolled past them takes off his hat to shake the snow off it.

-and, now that Atsumu can see more clearly, he's wearing one of the jackets Atsumu got him too, brushing the snow off of it-

Shouyo's traffic cone orange hair is a beacon. "Imma abandon ya if you keep staring at him like we're in some stupid romantic comedy 'Tsumu," Osamu says from behind him as he tightens the straps on his boots. "I actually have other people who want to hang out with me y'know?"

Atsumu turns to roll his eyes at his twin. "Sure, ya do," he grunts. "Proved that last night just fine." But Osamu doesn't even deign to answer, he knows that Atsumu is not gonna push much further because Atsumu really, really doesn't want to know what the hell Osamu was doing last night. He already knows enough as is. 

By now, Shouyo has managed to get on his feet and back on the slop, a sunny smile adorning his face that fades right as he meets Atsumu's eyes.

Osamu chuckles behind him, and, faster than Atsumu can shame him into staying he takes off down the very clearly-marked Black slope. Now, Atsumu could _totally_ follow him, but that would be rude, and why is he feeling bashful? If anything, the one who was a total nutjob last night was Shouyo so...

Atsumu can only blink at his brother's departure, mostly unimpressed, before his attention is back to Shouyo's uncertain face and those brown eyes that keep avoiding his. Even though the man is clearly too stubborn to walk away altogether. His hands are curled in sturdy fists at his sides, and the sleek black ski jacket that he wears fits him like a glove.

A rush of smugness fills him, Atsumu has always had a good eye for sizes. He has also always been the kind to talk first, before thinking. "Bad tumble ya took there Shou," he drawls, and the ginger's eyes widen. "Seems we finally found a sport yer not crazy good at. Must be a miracle."

Shouyo's cheeks flush red. "Shut up, I've never done this before." He pouts, looking down at the snowboard under his arm. "I'll be beating your ass in no time."

Atsumu can't help but laugh. "Not if you keep rolling down the slopes like that ya won't," he says, hand rising to ruffle Shouyo's hair. "Is this really the first time ya get on the slopes?"

"Well yeah." Shouyo scratches nervously at the back of his neck. "I think maybe when I was little..." It's almost cute, the way he looks down like he's embarrassed. and Atsumu can't suppress a chuckle. It doesn't go unnoticed, though, Shouyo clearly misunderstands. He frowns up at Atsumu. "And I live in a tropical country 'Tsumu, don't be an ass. The coldest weather I've had there is hail, and that always melts in like three hours, tops."

"Still, yer twenty-six-" His eyes find Shouyo's, so far he hasn't tried to talk about what happened last night. Maybe it'll stay that way. "Want me to teach ya?"

The ginger huffs, muttering something that Atsumu can't catch. "Are you sure?" Those wide brown eyes seem to say that Atsumu just can't be. "I thought made you mad last night."

It was too good to believe that he would just forget about it, Atsumu figures. "We've shared beds before." He says, noncommittally, eyes drifting to the snow behind Shouyo. "Why would I be mad?"

"Cuz..." Shouyo hesitates. "I kinda kissed you on the elevator. You weren't that drunk. Don't you remember?"

And this would be so much easier if he knew what Shouyo's really thinking about it, if he could be sure. But what Shouyo wants in this respect has alas been veiled to Atsumu, ever since that one night. "Y'were drunk. I figured-" He says, careful, careful. Shouyo's eyes narrow. "D'ya wanna talk about it?"

"I-" Shouyo's eyes alternate between Atsumu's and the line of the mountains behind him. His eyebrows scrunch up, conflict shining behind his irises, right before his eyes widen and he jumps for Atsumu.

Someone zooms past him, brushing his shoulder almost knocking Atsumu over. They would have if Shouyo didn't reach out, grab Atsumu by the waist and pull him out of the Daredevil's way. By the time Atsumu turns to yell at them, they're halfway down the mountain already, dressed all in black so there's no way to tell who it was.

He's being held close, nose level with the shorter man's forehead, Shouyo smalls like hotel soap and something sweet. He lets Atsumu go, and takes a slow step back like he's calculating where a spike is likely to land. 

Atsumu looks at him for a second, for once stunned into silence. "Teach me." His eyes take in Shouyo's pursed lips, that stubborn look in his eyes that spells trouble. "Teach me to do this, I'm sorry about last night. But you don't look mad. So, can you?"

It's then, and only then that he knows he's lost, that he has fallen even deeper than he ever dared to admit to himself. The thing is that he _is_ mad, -where does Shouyo get off acting like a college student on spring break anyway?- he slept badly, feeling cold while forcing himself not to cuddle closer to the other warm body on the bed. But the moment Shouyo looks at him like that there's no way he can act on the surge of annoyance that’s very much present inside him, not in a way that would befit him being actually mad. Fuck being absolute and stupidly in love with the ginger. "Just don't drag me down with ya if ya fall."

Shouyo heaves a relieved breath. "Right, then-" He turns his head to the slope that Osamu ditched him through. "Should we start in that one?

Atsumu can only laugh as he catches the ginger's wrist in his. "Nah, we're going up to the kiddie slope, 'm not taking chances with my spiker."

The wide, grateful grin that Shouyo gives him seems like enough to melt the snow. 

After that, it's like a haze has descended upon them. For a couple of hours, nothing else feels awkward. It would be just like usual except that the air feels charged, loaded, every time he touches Shouyo it's like a lightning bolt races up his hand. Every time Shouyo leans into it, it feels like it reaches his brain, taking with it everything but that hunger Atsumu has kept caged for years now. Just for a second.

He doesn't know if Shouyo notices, because the implications of him noticing -seeing as Atsumu can’t be very subtle, it’s not in his DNA- and still acting like this...

He will have to think about that later, or he might find himself pressing people to walls, or tree trunks, or any other kind of -mostly- flat surface.

.

.

_This is the best-case scenario, right?_

_Hinata is sitting beside him on the bed in an old T-shirt, and fleece-lined pants. He's even wearing fuzzy socks with bears on them that look like they have seen much better days._

_Admittedly, the movie thing was Atsumu's idea, part of his plan to pretend that everything's alright, while he figures out what the hell to do._

_So, yeah, he engineered this, he deserves to suffer the way the ginger radiates heat in the too warm bed._

_They're watching some horror movie that's so bad, Hinata has long since fallen backward, laughing like some sort of manic chinchilla._

_Atsumu tenses, his skin breaks out into goosebumps. He takes a deep breath, tries to calm himself down before something awkward happens. The ratty, old pajamas that were actually Osamu's at some point, aren't going to hide any problem that arises._

_Maybe, this wasn't necessary, or prudent. "Oh, god, look at that you can almost see the wiring!" Shouyo laughs. Atsumu focuses on the screen for a second. The -whatever it is, some sort of bat, maybe?- monster does look faker than any pretense that Atsumu may have had about this._

_They work on the court, they work. Atsumu has always connected with his spikers but with Hinata is something else, like sunlight shining right through when the clouds part, like lava melting away anything that it touches. "That looks like a radioactive rat." Atsumu laughs, turning his head to look at Hinata. "What d'ya think Shouyo? Would they beat the sharks?"_

_Hinata laughs, hair a stark contrast to Atsumu's white sheets. "Nah, the sharks win, full-stop." he hums. "Well, if they had legs, at least."_

_It would be so easy, push himself so he's hovering over the ginger, press him to that bed with his body. Swallow that grin, Hinata's moans, his laugh, eat away at him like he ate Away at Atsumu the other night. Maybe then it will stop, wind down, or at least turn to something more manageable than this corroding hunger because Atsumu can't take this._

_"Right, but then, the radioactive rats would win," Atsumu says back. "Ya can't go changin' the stakes, the sharks would be unstoppable if they had legs._

_Hinata rolls his eyes, laughing again. "It's stupid horror movies 'Tsumu, the stakes are fucked anyways." He stretches, back popping. "Can we have that casserole Osamu-san sent?"_

_Atsumu lets himself fall back beside Hinata, snickering as he meets the other's gaze. "I have a feeling yer just using me for food." He grins at Hinata. "Bad Shouyo."_

_"Oh, c'mon-" Hinata punches his shoulder softly. "I'll make dinner for you tomorrow, I did promise feijoada and I'm gonna deliver." He huffs. "But you made me get a craving for that thing."_

_Gods, this is too much. Atsumu pushes up on his elbow, grateful that the dark hides the heat that rises to his cheeks. "Yer impossible." he sighs. "And yer gonna make me get fat."_

_"You could come running with me once in a while." Hinata shoots back with a glint in his eye. "I guarantee you won't get fat then."_

_"What? Like yer a marathon runner." Atsumu scoffs, swinging his legs off the bed._

_Hinata's laugh is one of those old temple bells, a little low, and just that much off pitch._

_"I do two hours usually." He says, smug. "Think you can't keep up?"_

_"Ha!"_

.

.

He's about halfway sure he's going to end up losing his nose.

Well, that's a little bit dramatic.

But Shouyo doesn't think the tip of his nose and his fingers haven't been this numb since he used to bike to school in particularly wintery days. 

He leans down to take off the snow boots, at least his feet are warm. Gods, he's going too have to get Atsumu something to show how grateful he is to not have been left to freeze without appropriate clothing in this mountain.

He shrugs the ski jacket off, folding it over the wooden armrest of the armchair he has chosen and lays his goggles on the one to his left. Atsumu's gonna need somewhere to sit once he comes back.

He grimaces at the thought, a bit surprised at himself still. The realization has been staged, and he's a lot less oblivious than he used to be, so it's baffling, really. Because now, when he looks at this whole situation in the harsh, cold winter sunlight, with the smell of the crackling fireplace in his nose, while sitting the zone of the lobby that's been engineered to look like a chalet, every word they say, or thing they do seems to make it even more glaringly obvious that he and Atsumu do act a whole lot like a couple. 

A very gross, mushy couple that gives each other foot rubs on occasion and buys each other's clothes.

And Shouyo isn’t bothered about it. Like, a couple of minutes ago, when they came in here Atsumu stole his beanie and ruffled his hair. Then he directed Shouyo to the chairs and said he would be getting them both some hot chocolate.

What's worse, Shouyo beamed up at him and listened. He only realized how warm and fluttery that made him feel, and how he didn't think twice about coming here to sit all comfy and warm relying on Atsumu implicitly when he was already sinking into the soft armchair, trusting completely that Atsumu is coming.

He is so deep in his thoughts that he barely notices the body that drops on the loveseat to his right. "Having fun with the slopes?" The gentle, steady voice is familiar as can be. Akaashi looks as perfect as he does every time Shouyo looks at him. He's wearing a bright blue fleece-lined sweater but has hung a wet jacket much like Shouyo's on the back of the loveseat. 

Shouyo hums. "I'd never snowboarded before, it's fun," he says. "Were you out too?"

"Really? I thought I saw you going down the blue slope." He tilts his head to the side, curiosity filling his features. "I was out too. Koutarou needed some time to unwind and I always like seeing him do anything, he's just..." Akaashi trails off like he can't find a word that reflects the concept of brilliance enough to describe his fiancé.

Shouyo smiles, he knows the feeling. "Just Bokuto-san, I get it." He pats Akaashi's shoulder. "I've really missed you all. And yeah, I was on the blue one, but only because 'Tsumu is a very good teacher and he was right behind me."

Akaashi has never been a very expressive person, but he does give Shouyo a small smile at the comment. "You got to the blue track in a day?" his eyebrows rise. "Miya-san must be a good teacher then. Though you do have an advantage over us normal people." He stops for a second.

"Heh," Shouyo's chest puffs out a little. "We're pretty used to each other, he even caught me when I slipped a few times." 

"Really…” Akaashi hums, quiet for a second, then he leans over to unlace his own boots. "Uh, Kou told me about yesterday.” He says quietly. “I'm sorry, that must have been embarrassing." He looks back at Shouyo, face apologetic. "There have always been rumors about you two, and you know how he is, he got carried away."

"It's fine, I mean, I wasn't even mad about it." Shouyo shrugs. "It just wasn't true," he looks down at where his hands are laced together on his lap. "We've been close for a while now, and I really loved playing with him. People can draw their own conclusions, it’s not like it bothers me."

“It shouldn’t, for what it’s worth.” The former setter laces his fingers together. "Do you miss playing with him?" Akaashi asks, melting back into the backrest.

There's a beat of silence, Shouyo lifts his feet to the small stool in front of him and wiggles his toes. "I do, we were-" he stops for a second. "It was awesome, we never even needed to talk. Like we did it out of habit but I always felt like we could even pull of things that we’d never talked about before. Atsumu’s really some- Oh, sorry I was rambling-"

The dark-haired man waves him off. "Don't worry." He looks over at the fire, smirking a little. "But if you will forgive my boldness, I get why there have always been rumors like those."

"Yeah..." Shouyo trails off, he pushes himself so he's sitting straighter and takes a quick look around. He can see a couple of people they know, but none are close by, and there's no chance of Atsumu -or Bokuto for that part-. "You got together with Bokuto-san right after that one match, right? When I came back."

"We did." Akaashi's face is impassive as he speaks. "But you knew that, Hinata-kun." He turns to Shouyo. "What do you really want to ask? I am sure the hot chocolate line won't hold our companions for long. Even Koutarou would be needing to sit after how much he moved out there."

The setter has always been the blunt type, really. No matter how blissed out he looks with the wedding coming up tomorrow. The back of his neck burns and Shouyo knows he has gone red up to his ears. "I-" Akaashi's blue eyes are piercing, Shouyo sighs. "You hadn't talked in ages, right? How did you know that it was not just, uh, that you were close? Like, it wasn’t just reconnecting as friends?"

Akaashi seems to stop to think for a second. "I had a huge crush on him in high school," he says candidly, and Shouyo feels kind of silly for having asked like that. That much _was_ pretty easy to see. _"_ Apparently it was reciprocated-" he shrugs. "-and when we met again we were ready, unlike back then. There was really no reason not to get together when it was like that." Now it's his hand that's being laid reassuringly on Shouyo's shoulder. "It didn't feel right to wait."

Shouyo takes a deep breath. "But then do yo-" 

Akaashi's fingers tighten around his shoulder, eyes widening slightly, and Shouyo turns around just in time for Atsumu to take a seat beside him. "We better make the chocolate ourselves next time, tht line was gigantic," He huffs, as he holds the paper cup out to Shouyo. It's topped with whipped cream. "Got it jus' how you like it."

He can't help but smile. "I think I lo-" It almost flies out, and only the fact that it’s so new and tentative to Shouyo’s mind makes it catch in his throat, like that one very large marble he swallowed as a child. "Thanks, you're the best!"

"Well, I _am_ your favorite setter," Atsumu says smugly, taking the seat Shouyo saved for him with his goggles. "Got confirmation last night and all."

Shouyo huffs at him. "I was drunk, I'm not responsible for anything I said." He sips at the chocolate, bumping his foot to Atsumu's. "You're officially still on a tie with Kageyama."

"Hah, I should've recorded it," Atsumu says, bumping back. "Whatever, I know in my heart."

It's not until Shouyo hears some mumbling and muffled giggling that he turns back to Akaashi, and someone else who seems to have decided to join. "Bokuto-san! When did you get here!?" Both Bokuto and Akaashi are holding cups full of chocolate much like his own now. "I didn't see you."

Bokuto has this huge, shit-eating grin on his face. "I came up with _your_ , eh- TsumTsum there. You were a bit distracted." He slips his free arm around Akaashi's shoulders and hooks a leg over the former setter's crossed ones. 

Akaashi melts into the embrace. "Don't mind us." He says, glancing quickly at his fiancé. "It's the sugar and the skiing."

Then Shouyo both remembers what he was talking about with Akaashi and realizes that he somehow managed to absolutely ignore Bokuto -of all people- for a few seconds. He smiles politely. "You two are too sweet."

"Not sweeter than-Ow, 'Kaashi!"

He turns back to Atsumu, eyes meeting his dark gold ones. "I'll give you points for teaching me today."

"Ya mean for not letting ya die?" Atsumu teases. "That better be a bunch of points."

Shouyo scoffs and leverages his weight on the floor to push his armchair closer to Atsumu's until they're pressed together. "I was beating you by the end, you can't deny that!"

"We were on the blue slope." Atsumu pouts, his arm is laid over the armrest, Shouyo mirrors him, switching the coffee to his other hand. "I was lettin' ya win."

Maybe, this has been going on for a lot longer than he realized. And Shouyo doesn't lie to himself, not on purpose at least, he has always wanted the other, this was all there, under the thin, shimmery veneer of friendship and a little bit of lust. "I'll race you 'Tsumu, I mean that." He moves his forearm just an inch to the left, eyes never leaving Atsumu's. There isn't even any skin to skin touch, they both have two layers on but...

Shouyo shivers.

.

.

_Maybe he's being a little mean._

_He used to do this on sand, after all -and in the heat of Brazilian beaches, which are no joke, even this early in the morning-, and Atsumu, for all his other athletic virtues has never had the most stamina -at least when compared to Shouyo, or Bokuto, maybe he’s just more normal-._

_And Shouyo, Shouyo did, and does, and that's why today he's doing things, as usual, his same pace from every morning, here with the asphalt and the ornamental trees, in Brazil with the rising sun and the little beach critters he had to look at the floor often to avoid._

_Atsumu, he knows, runs in the afternoons, generally on a treadmill, and Shouyo likes his runs with stairs and rocks and little things to keep him awake -and from tripping and cutting his head open-._

_Well, Atsumu is not gonna be running on that treadmill today, seeing as they're halfway down Shouyo's usual route and he's panting and sweating like this is a particularly taxing game._

_And the sun is barely up._

_At least it's not hot today or Shouyo may have had to put that heatstroke training he once got from the beach lifeguards to the test._

_"I thought you said I'd be biting your dust." He croons, he can be a little mean still. "We can stop for a bit, y'know?"_

_Atsumu huffs, chest pushing out in an attempt to look proud. "Yer gonna be eatin' my dust in a second Shouyo. I'm just gettin' used to this." He huffs, almost wheezes. "What kinda lunatic are you to want to do this at this hour?"_

_"It's actually a very good way to kickstart your metabolism for the day." Shouyo sticks his tongue out at the other. "Really wakes you up."_

_"Yeah, yeah, quit talkin' like a bad infomercial Shou." He's panting now, and his hair is plastered to his face, the thin t-shirt that he wears too._

Yum.

_Sometimes Shouyo wonders if he wasn't too rash that one night. Atsumu is- He's a lot of things that Shouyo likes, and it would be too easy, too good to just tug him along to some decently soft surface._

_He's not supposed to do that, of course, any of it. It was bad enough when he dated Kageyama in high school, things like that can mess up the court majorly, and Shouyo has fought to be in this court, fought and scraped and begged for it. His pride won't let him jeopardize that._

_It was one time, and that's how it should stay._

_And he knows Atsumu's the same. Tsukishima calls people like them volleyball monsters and to a degree, yeah, to a degree, it fits. He's sure the setter would agree if Shouyo ever brought it up._

_Which he's not going to, of course._

_Not with the way he looks at Shouyo's lips too long sometimes, or how sometimes his arm lingers on Shouyo's shoulders for a few seconds too long. That just spells trouble._

_He's about to cross a street when he notices that the blond is no longer running beside him. They're about three quarters done with his route. Shouyo stops, whips around, worried, and there he is, half a block behind. Dyed hair shining golden in the rising sun, murderous annoyance in his eyes, leaning forward on his knees and panting like crazy._

_Yeah, Atsumu is trouble, all trouble. For his insides and his eyes and anywhere else that Shouyo can think._

_He shoves the awed feeling into a corner and runs back._

_"Sorry, I should've taken it easier," he says and the blond glares at him, sucking the last drops of an empty sports bottle. "Water?"_

_"Can- I pour it- on my head?" The setter wheezes and Shouyo waves him off -because,_ really _?-_

_And then he does, the water travels over Atsumu's forehead, down his flushed cheeks and neck, to soak the neck of the shirt._

_Shouyo looks away. "Let's just jog back, I don't wanna have to explain you dying on me like this."_

_"Like hell-" Atsumu glowers. "I'm beatin' ya tomorrow." He says, and starts jogging, albeit, slower than before._

_"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." Shouyo grins at him as they cross the street together. "I'll have the emergency services number at the ready."_

.

.

Dinner is an uncomfortable affair.

For Atsumu, at least, because Shouyo is acting weird and they somehow ended up sitting with both Tsukishima and Kuroo -chicken-butt best man-. Both of whom manage to be both infuriating and absolutely, disgustingly mushy.

Besides, there's what happened -or didn't- with them and Osamu last night. And if he didn't want to know from his own twin, Atsumu certainly doesn't want to get that kind of information from the mouths of two virtual strangers. So, he strays clear from that topic, thankful that Osamu is off dining with the grooms and Kita, who barely arrived a couple of hours ago.

-god, did Kuroo just hand feed Tsukishima a gyoza? They're both grinning smugly, like they _know_ it's uncomfortable-

Atsumu looks back at Shouyo, who looks like he's about to burst out into uncontrollable, belly-laughing. He gives the ginger an unamused look. "Hey, it's good blackmail material, he's not half this smug when we have class reunions." Shouyo half-whispers.

It catches the couple's attention, though. Tsukishima sneers at them. "Something you want to add Hinata?" his eyebrows rise, as he leans into the dark-haired man. "Miya?" The man's stare could probably freeze volcanos or something. Atsumu shivers a little. 

But he's not one to back down. "Jus' wondering how long it took Kuroo-san here to break that sour exterior of yours?"

He expects something sourer, but Tsukishima laughs. "If you weren't so hopelessly blind, Miya-san, I'm sure you would know by now." This, in turn, sends the dark-haired man laughing too, his arm goes around the blond's back and pulls Tsukishima close on their side of the booth. At least that does make the blond flush, even if just slightly.

"You're a savage, babe." The dark-haired man says, pressing a kiss to his partner's temple. Then his narrowed, cat-like eyes fall on Atsumu. "He's right though, you now? The only one blinder than you-" his eyes drift to Shouyo. "But oh well, you'll figure it out."

Atsumu rolls their eyes at them. "All that sugar's probably damagin' yer brains." He huffs, reaching for a gyoza and popping it in his mouth, just as he feels something warm brushing up against his leg. Obviously, it's neither Kuroo nor Tsukishima. And it's not the first time it happens. Since Atsumu met him back at the lobby earlier in the afternoon, the ginger has been a lot more... _tactile_ , than usual. And seeing that this is Shouyo, who immediately took to the Latin American way of just touching everyone all the time both times he moved, that's saying a lot.

"Don't start bickering with them, 'Tsumu" Shouyo says and something is compelling about his voice, or maybe it's just that foot on Atsumu's leg, a very real weight that gets him out of his mind. "I'm sure you three could go on forever." he frowns a little and that foot slides a little further up his calve. "I'll have to go sit with Kageyama."

"Yeah _'Tsumu_." Tsukishima snickers. "Behave."

Atsumu narrows his eyes at the other blond. "Shut yer trap." He hisses and then turns his eyes back to Shouyo. "If ya start getting all annoying and shit, I'm leaving to sit with 'Samu and Kita-san. And I'm not helping you eat that monstrosity y'all ordered for dessert."

Hinata lifts his hands. "Alright, alright, you're all stingy today." he warmth over his calve rubs up and down reassuringly. "I'll give- You should go to sleep early, or you're gonna show up with that frowny face in all the pictures tomorrow." He reaches out, hands cupping Atsumu’s face, thumbs tugging at the corners of his lips until Atsumu's lips are stretched in this awkward way. His brow furrows, his eyes find Shouyo's almond-colored ones and for a second he really, fully forgets they're acting like five-year-olds in the middle of a -what's supposed to be a sort of fancy- restaurant.

At least until the waiter swipes in, with the -truly huge- dessert they ordered which happens to be a specialty of this place. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Tsukishima dive in. And there's a laugh from Kuroo. "I advise snapping out of it to get a portion for yourselves sometime soon, or he's not gonna leave you anything." He says smoothly, and the moment's broken. Shouyo's hands go away, even the foo under the table. Atsumu turns to look at Kuroo with a look that's probably so hopeless the older man just sighs over his rather small portion of dessert. "Who wants coffee to go with this?"

Half an hour later, Atsumu wishes he'd made Shouyo get the coffee alongside them all. It might've counteracted the excess sugar a little.

Then again, maybe then he'd have been hopped up on both sugar and caffeine, and that doesn't sound too good when the shorter man seems to be back to sticking to Atsumu like they're magnets with opposite charges.

Kuroo and Tsukishima get off on the fourth floor, along with another couple. Then there's no reason for Shouyo to continue pressing into his side as he has been, they're the only people in the elevator aside from a little girl with her hair in pigtails and uggs. 

But Shouyo doesn't step aside, he stays a warm, solid weight, part of his back pressed to Atsumu's chest. The little screen of the elevator marks eight, the door opens and they stand there frozen for a second.

"Isn't this your floor?" The little girl says, voice high.

That does make them move, Shouyo starts walking, and Atsumu follows. The ginger's steps are a little hesitant, Atsumu keeps staring ahead but he can't help but notice the way the other keeps glancing at him nervously. 

The corridor is dark, smells of something fresh, pine, or something fresh and wintery like that. Atsumu's fists clench. "What was that at dinner?" he finds himself asking, he didn't mean to say it, but it's not like the words haven't been floating around in the back of his head. "What were ya thinkin'?"

Shouyo stops, then looks down at his feet. "I thought-" he turns so he's facing Atsumu, bottom lip between his teeth, eyes wide and clear and uncertain. "I've missed you. And I thought- I don't know."

The words nail him to the floor, and the little light that seeps from the dimmed ceiling lights makes it all the more surreal. "And what?"

The ginger tenses, and then there's a change in his eyes, something Atsumu is more used to seeing on the court. It's the eyes then, the wide, hungry ones. The ones that are not so much determined but demanding. "I like you."

"Shou-"

"No, I’m sober now, and I like you and I don't know why I've been avoiding it. And I think that you-" He stops, studies Atsumu's face -though Atsumu himself has no idea what face he's making, he may well be a floating, talking cloud of consciousness, his fingers feel numb- then opens his mouth again. "Do you like me too?"

Like feels like too soft a word to encompass it all, but all Atsumu can see are those eyes and those clenched fists. And the lip caught between those teeth. "You live in Brazil." He whispers, soft and low, but by the time the last syllable leaves his mouth, his lips are a hairsbreadth away from Shouyo's. Then his hands are in the other's hair and they're kissing. Softly, tenderly, and in the rare times, he imagined this kiss it was much rougher. There wasn't Shouyo gently pulling himself close until they're flush against each other, arms wrapping around Atsumu's neck like he actually needs the leverage.

They part after an undefinable amount of time. Not much, not nearly enough. "I know." Shouyo mumbles. "Just think about it. For me?"

Atsumu nods mutely, he feels like he has left all his words hanging off of Shouyo's lips. And then Shouyo is turning around, heading for his door. "Goodnight 'Tsumu."

"'Night Shouyo."

**III**

It's abnormally bright in Shouyo's room.

Really, he usually doesn't sleep in this late, at least the wedding's in the afternoon or he would be _so_ late.

This isn't too good, but then, he did spend most of the actual night pacing the room like a caged animal, almost bouncing off the walls while wondering when he went back to being as articulate as he was in the first year of high school. 

He'd like to blame the sugar. But it's mostly the fact that his haphazardly planned confession last night didn't go how he planned.

He had actual stuff to say, and then Atsumu kissed him and- and Shouyo's brain went all _aughhhhh_. So much so that all he could do not to jump the setters bones in that very public corridor was run off to his room while trying to sound cool.

But _fuck_ , if Atsumu even wants to speak to him today it'll be a miracle.

He looked so open last night, too open and vulnerable. And also like Shouyo hit him over the head with a mallet, cartoon fashion.

At least Shouyo got his confirmation, that he's had feelings for one of his best friends for forever.

 _Deus_ , and he said he _liked_ Atsumu. Like some high school kid, could he have chosen a more childish way?

On the pillow beside his head, his phone vibrates. Shouyo stares blearily at the time, it's lunchtime, late lunchtime. Ugh. There's also a text waiting to be opened.

**_FROM: BOKUTO-SAN 12:38_ **

_BIRDY, WHAT'D YA DO?_

_YOU BROKE TSUMTSUM_

_HE'S NOT TALKING_

_IT'S SCARY_

_ahhsdhdhs_

_This is Akaashi_

_Don't be too alarmed, it is true he is acting strange, but I don't think you need to rush._

_That said, you shouldn't take too long to talk to him either._

_I GOT OSAMU TO PESTER HIM AND HE DIDN'T SAY A THING_

_DO WE HAVE TO SWITCH YOUR SEATS?_

Shouyo sighs, his chest growing heavy. Atsumu is a door away and he might be planning to let him down? That's what it sounds like.

Though Akaashi sounds decently calm, Bokuto may be blowing it a little out of proportion.

Besides. Shouyo did just confess out of the blue last night, having only realized his own feelings at most six hours earlier. And he does live half a world away, doesn't matter that his contract is in it's last few months.

Would he switch teams to be closer? Would Atsumu? 

Maybe that's why he subconsciously put a block on these feelings, it's complicated, and Atsumu is the person he calls to chatter about stupid stuff. He's the one that Shouyo reminds to eat well. He's the person Shouyo talks to the most other than _maybe_ his mom. 

Surely losing him as a friend would be bad. Maybe worse than being rejected.

Shouyo sighs and brings himself to his feet, then takes a deep breath and starts his usual routine of stretches.

The dining hall is almost empty when he gets there. He eats quickly, not quite bothering to chew what he's eating. He's supposed to be ready in less than an hour and he hasn't even gotten his suit from Tsukishima, who better not have gotten a white one as he did for Sugawara and Sawamura's wedding. That thing made Shouyo look like a lollipop and here, with all the snow, it would only be worse.

Quickly, he dashes up to room thirty-five-oh-two and knocks on the door. There's a grunt and some mumbling of someone that definitely isn't Tsukishima, and then the door opens. 

Osamu blinks down at him, sleepy eyes, he's still wearing pajamas. "Uh, is Tsukishima in?" Shouyo asks, a little afraid of the answer. He only half believed what the saw on Friday night up until now.

Osamu tilts his head to the side. "In his room, maybe." he jerks his thumb to point to the left. "Next door."

"O-oh, right!" Shouyo jumps, relieved. Still, he feels too watched Osamu can be a little more stoic than Atsumu sometimes and it makes Shouyo a little uneasy. He's much more used to Atsumu and his way of just blurting stuff up and talking shit. "Thanks, Osamu-san." He hesitates to head down the corridor, teeth catching his bottom lip between them.

Osamu sighs. "Don't worry yer head off-" he leans into the doorframe. "My idiot twin's _fine_ caught off guard but fine."

"Really? I thought-" Shouyo looks down feeling a little bashful. "-I upset him? It's news, I mean- Did he tell you?" He really doesn't want to make a fool of himself right now.

But the older one starts laughing, full and deep. "Nah, he didn't tell me. But ya think we haven't all known-" he stops to laugh for a second. "-for like ages? Yer both such loudmouths an' you haven't bothered to admit it. It's sad."

Shouyo's face scrunches up. "So I've been told- lately- often- ughhh I didn't fuck up? Really?!"

"No." Osamu narrows his eyes. "And even if it was like that, he's too hardheaded." He huffs. "Now will ya let me get dressed?"

Shouto steps back. "Sure, Thanks Osamu-san," he says

"No problem."

It takes several knocks on Tsukishima's door -and to be sincere, some screaming- to get his suit, which is handed to him by a very disgruntled looking blond that only peeks his head out, he's clearly at least half-naked. "I'm never getting you clothes again, hopefully, the pants fit," he grumbles, before blushing and closing the door on Shouyo's face.

Then he goes up to his room, gets int the suit, and tries to fix his hair, though all he manages is to get that one cowlick to stand down, stuck to another tuft of hair. 

And then, Shouyo spends a solid thirteen minutes string at the dark green tie that's still laid out on the bed. He could go ask Atsumu for help but- He sighs and picks u his phone to look for a tutorial.

Which is not a good idea. After three tutorials and a lot of cursing, he hears a soft knock at the accessory door that communicates through to Atsumu's room. "Are ya getting attacked or something?" the setters voice s tentative, a little worried. "We're all meant to be down there like ten minutes ago."

Shouyo bristles. "I can't get my tie right." he snaps. "Why aren't you down there already?"

The doorknob turns, and Atsumu peeks in. "Couldn't find one shoe." He explains, stepping into the room as Shouyo nods. "Want some help?"

Good gods, does he have to look that good in a suit? What prank on Kageyama is Shouyo paying for now? 

He swallows, hard. "Yeah, I'm afraid Akaashi-san will murder us if we have to sneak in while either of them is walking in."

Atsumu comes closer, too close. He smells good. Shouyo begs himself internally _not_ to freak out at the golden tie or the black suit that looks like it was tailor-made to make Atsumu's shoulders look lickable. "Nah, Bokuto can talk him down," he says, taking the ends of the wrinkled tie from where it's hanging as a sorry, lumpy knot around Shouyo's throat. "Wow, ya never go to any events?"

"It's perfectly normal to wear your collar open usually back in Brazil," Shouyo explains, intently looking at Atsumu's face, though the setter's eyes avoid his. "Not here, though, damned winter."

Atsumu's deft fingers quickly work his tie into a pretty knot. "There, ya really should learn."

They're less than a foot apart. Shouyo huffs. "You should teach me then, 'Tsumu," he says, and then finally manages to ask the thing that has been torturing him since Atsumu came into the room "We're not gonna stop being friends, right?" 

The setter's eyes finally meet his, wide and incredulous. "Shou," the word is soft, feels like velvet when Atsumu says it. "No, of course not, I-" he takes a deep breath, and Shouyo finds himself stepping closer. "Actually-"

Then of course, -because they live in a fucking romantic comedy where Shouyo is the plucky, oblivious heroine and Atsumu is the gold-hearted, slightly asshole-ish love interest- Shouyo's phone starts ringing.

And Atsumu's.

Shouyo takes a deep breath and picks it up. It's Tsukishima. "If you don't stop fucking Miya and get to the cabin this instant, Akaashi is strangling you both with his sash," he says, voice deadpan, and then hangs up.

Now, _that_ would be a nice thing to be doing, Shouyo really wouldn't mind. They could talk after, or before, or whatever. But it would be shitty not to show up to the wedding. And it would be even shittier to ruin the groom's entrances too.

When their eyes meet again, they're both apologetic. "After the wedding?" Shouyo asks tentatively.

Atsumu rolls his eyes, shoulders relaxing, he reaches out to gently rub his thumb over Shouyo's left cheekbone. "After the wedding, c'mon, lets go." He waits for Shouyo to catch up, and they set off to the little cabin where the ceremony is going to be held.

**.**

**.**

_It's the third time they face the Adlers, their second victory, that Shouyo knows he has to leave._

_It has been there, in a pile of unanswered, unopened letters on the kitchen table of that apartment that's right under Atsumu's, for a while._

_Namely, since the Olympics ended._

_And he_ knows _because he turns around after the spike that grants them their victory -which wasn't even his, it was from a synchro attack, and it was Sakusa's-, Shouyo turns around and looks at the rest of his team, heart bursting with joy._

 _His eyes zero in on Atsumu, and for the fraction of a second that it takes for the setter to smile back at him, Shouyo is perfectly content, it's like something deep inside him-the very tectonic plates of his being- has said_ enough _. And the feeling doesn't go away as they all run to huddle together, as Atsumu hugs him on one side and Meian on the other._

_They're all sweaty and tired, and it's good, it's one of the things he plays for._

_It feels like enough for a second, Kageyama's sour eyes from across the net, Hoshiumi's stiff upper lip, Atsumu's triumphant laugh._

_And of course, it isn't, his very nature won't allow it to be, and he's very aware of that. So Shouyo takes that little golden moment, hugs it to his chest hard, then lets it go._

_There are so many things he wants to do. They won't be easy, but they're his goals, his dreams. If he learned anything from going off to Brazil, it was that the more he clings, the more it hurts, and the more it hurts, the harder it is to make a life for himself elsewhere. He cant cling, not to them. Because he_ is _leaving, maybe not this week, or this month, but soon._

_Some other country, some other team is waiting, another stage, he-_

_"Didja break?" there's the gentle flick of a finger to Shouyo's temple, and he realizes he has been staring into space for a bit. "We can't leave ya here, they have to clean the court eventually, an' yer too good a spiker to get run over by a floor polisher."_

_He turns his gaze on Atsumu, feeling the derailing train of thought he was in getting knocked back on the tracks by the setter's voice. "Just happy, 'Tsumu." Shouyo grins, believing it enough that he's sure it doesn't look too fake. "And thirsty," he adds, letting himself be led tot he side of the court where Atsumu throws a yellow bottle at him. "Thanks."_

_Atsumu's golden eyes narrow. "Yer gonna keep zoning out like that? Cuz it looks pretty weird," he huffs, wiping water from the corner of his lip. "But really, you okay?"_

_"Aww," Shouyo sashays over to him, bumping his hip to the setters for a second. "Who knew you cared." He quips, then walks off to look for the showers._

_Behind him, he hears Atsumu mutter something softly. But then Bokuto is racing him, and it all ends shoved somewhere on the back of his mind._

**.**

**.**

Tsukishima may be a little insufferable with his smug grins and his mushy relationship but maybe he isn't so bad.

After all, he somehow got Shouyo a suit that both highlights his amazing back and his waist.

It's light grey, with shiny dark grey buttons, the seams perfectly aligned so that it neither hangs off Shouyo nor looks like something that's been fit for a teen.

The biggest exercise in self-control that Atsumu has ever done was not pulling Shouyo close with that damned tie and leaving that suit to cool and wrinkle on the floor. Along with his own, of course.

No, scratch that, the biggest fucking exercise in self-control of Atsumu's life is sitting here, pretending to be a proper, mature person. All while Shouyo looks like that, face illuminated by strings of fairy lights, with a couple of snowflakes melting on his hair from where they had to run from the main building to the small cabin that Akaashi and Bokuto have transformed in something out of a Disney movie.

Luckily, that's when the wedding march starts playing, and the head in the whole room snap to the entrance.

Bokuto's father and Bokuto come in first. The owl is dressed in spotless white, with a slivery-lilac tie, his hair styled in the usual spikes, recently bleached so he has no roots. He looks every bit like a snowy owl, and also like he's about to puke. 

There's a watery grin on his face and his free hand is burled into a fist by his side.

They reach the front on the room, and Bokuto's father stands to the side leaving his son to stand right to the side of the minister, under the arch of intricately woven wood and flowers that must've been brought up here today to look so fresh. He shakes a little as he looks at the entrance.

And then, another song starts playing and Akaashi comes in. 

He's on the arm of Bokuto's mom -apparently, his family isn't in the picture, hasn't been for a while- she has laced her arm through his and is soothingly rubbing the man's elbow.

Bokuto's face splits into a grin that should probably split it in half. Just like that, the tension leaves his body and he's standing taller, chest out.

Which is understandable, Akaashi looks like he could _star_ on the Disney film.

He's in a long, black robe with wide sleeves and a flowy hem that reaches his knees. Under it is a white shirt without a collar, that closes with just a row of small, prim looking buttons, and black, high-waisted pants with a straight leg. All this topped with a black, satin sash that sets off his trim waist when the coat billows. 

"Woahhh," Shouyo whispers as Akaashi walks past them.

Atsumu can only agree with him, fully.

The ceremony is long, and it drags on and on.

Which gives him a lot of time to think. or to overthink, really, he did all the necessary thinking last night, tossing a stress ball up to the ceiling and berating himself.

Because he can't say this was anything other than both of them being oblivious idiots. Very oblivious idiots.

If Shouyo has feelings for him, how long has he had feelings for him? Atsumu has been pushing down those feelings -that supposed crush- for four long years thinking it all just came from that one-night stand.

And now Shouyo has feelings for him too, but he also lives in Brazil.

Still, it might not be that bad. He and Shouyo skype nearly every day, he knows the names of every person that the ginger interacts with and-

And Atsumu has _offers_ , good offers.

He knows that Shouyo does too, he keeps them pinned to a corkboard above the bed in his Brazil bedroom.

Maybe they could work something out.

He hasn't dated in four years, hasn't wanted to. Had he seen any signs from Shouyo... he knows himself, he's wanted the other, needed him for four years.

There's a hunger that has been tucked away in a little recess of his chest for all that time. And it's nicely folded and hidden away but after two kisses Shouyo has brought it out and-

He can't let go, not now.

"Hey, you're doing the frowny face." Shouyo hisses, and then there's a hand squeezing Atsumu's knee. "Everything alright?"

Atsumu shakes his head. "M'alright." He turns to meet Shouyo's gaze. "Really."

"Good, 'cause it's time for the vows." Shouyo grins and lifts his hand to wave at a very subtle cameraman that's standing on the corner. "And they've been recording us for a bit."

"Oi, boke, shut up." Kageyama snaps from Shouyo's other side. "They're doing it."

Indeed, at the head of the room, the grooms are facing each other, staring like there's no one else in the room. 

Bokuto goes first, shifting on his feet a little, eyes staring deep into Akaashi’s. He has a small paper in his hand, and his eyes flit down to it for a second, though if Atsumu had to hazard a guess, the owl’s not reading any of the words written on it, more than he is steeling himself. “I- Akaashi Keiji-“ he starts, voice booming in a way that makes Atsumu feel a little blown back. “I, Bokuto Koutarou take you, as my husband, my love. From this day forward and until we’re both old and wrinkled, and after, and forever.” His hand curls until it’s closed, crumpling up the paper and then Bokuto’s eyes rise again, and they are on Akaashi’s and Akaashi’s only. They’re suspiciously bright and wide. “You have me, I love you, and I won’t ever leave your side again.”

That’s actually a lot better than Atsumu expected, seeing as at the start of the ceremony Bokuto was looking like he might dissolve into a pile of nerves, right in the middle of the aisle. His eyes drift to Akaashi, next, Akaashi who is wearing his usual, serious expression, except there are two tracks of crystalline tears leading down from his eyes. He lifts his left hand, to be caught by Bokuto’s, the silver-haired-man handles it like it’s something fragile, and precious as he slips the silver ring on his fourth finger.

When the silver-haired man is done, Akaashi catches his left hand, his grip looks a lot firmer as his eyes take in Bokuto’s face and the love that's blatantly reflected on it. “Bokuto Koutarou, you’re always surprising me.” The corners of his lips twitch upwards and his hands clutch at Bokuto’s. “I take you for my husband, you are all I want for however long you will have me. In sickness, in health, in any way I-“ he swallows hard. “I love you.”

And then, at some point he’s gotten the ring and slid it on Bokuto’s finger, Atsumu has no idea when the same way he’s not sure whether the officiator says anything before they kiss. Everything’s too perfect, they’re a fairytale, the fairytale and if fairy lights started descending from heaven to dance around the couple under the arch, it wouldn’t be out of place.

Beside him, there’s a short, muffled sniffle.

There have been a couple, but he’s only ready to face them now, to look at Shouyo now.

He’s an ugly crier, always has been, red-nosed and puffy-eyed, biting his lips so the sounds won't escape and disrupt the couple kissing at the head of the room. Of course, he would cry at weddings. 

Shouyo’s hands are clutching at the seat of the chair he is sitting on, the lack of space allowing his thumb to unintentionally brush against the slack-covered side of Atsumu’s thigh. He is not asking.

But Atsumu wants to give anyways, there’s nothing he doesn’t want to give when it comes to Shouyo. He takes a deep breath and turns to stare at the couple again. His hand rises from where it’s laying on his lap and comes down to cover Shouyo’s cold one.

The other stiffens for a second, and then, _then-_

Shouyo’s hand loosens, turns around and his fingers lace through Atsumu’s.

.

.

_Shouyo is well-loved._

_It's something Atsumu knows, has since high school, he's like a videogame or anime protagonist, making friends out of everyone he meets and everywhere goes like he's collecting them. But it's never so palpable as the day Shouyo is leaving for Brazil, again._

_Atsumu, as Shouyo's new, self-proclaimed favorite setter, drives him there. He's also helped the ginger strip his apartment bare and get all his paperwork in order the past few weeks -or, at least put him in touch with his accountant, lest something like that one situation with Bokuto happened- in the past couple of weeks._

_And it feels,_ he _feels, happy for the ginger, he_ does _. But that one side of him the hungry one, the one with fangs, the one willing to snap and attack to protect its hoard, differs. Especially when he sees the small crowd gathered outside the airport doors._

_Even though he helped organize the whole thing._

_Osamu shoots him a knowing look, Atsumu sticks out his tongue at him._

_He has a crush, a long-lasting one, being even more childish than he already is can't hurt much._

_Good lord, he's twenty-five. This is supposed to be a high school girl thing, how has he managed to end up in this situation?_

_Beside him, Shouyo pretends to be surprised, hands going to his chest in a delighted gesture. He is wearing a pink sweater with some birds on it, a gift from Bokuto of all people because, apparently, Akaashi said the color would suit him -and it surprisingly does, it makes him look soft, sweeter than he is if that's even possible-, and some white sweatpants. It's not the kind of outfit that anyone would usually drool over, but Atsumu can't help that he's in too deep, quite literally in love with the sun and godforsakenly unable to do anything but watch it from afar and wish it the best._

_He would never cut Shouyo's wings, so he can only watch as he goes._

_As much as he might want to keep him, as much the back of his mind fills with red, with possessive impulses when that one YouTuber -the one that sponsors Shouyo- throws his arms around the ginger and hands him a small wrapped gift._

_Shouyo smiles, Atsumu smiles._

_A little bitterly, but he manages to smile and that's worth something, He's being mature._

_-Osamu says he's being an idiot, but who has asked him? Atsumu hasn't said a word, so he's clearly just going off of his own assumptions-_

_Shouyo makes his rounds, hugs, kisses, climbs on anyone that will allow it. By the time he gets back to Atsumu's side his arms are overflowing with little gifts. His eyes are wide, and bright, and wet, even as Atsumu helps him put away everything into his backpack. "'Tsumu, I think I forgot my thermos at your place," he says quietly as he and Atsumu start walking for the door._

_"I told ya you'd end up leavin' shit at my place," Atsumu grumbles, and now there is a visible tear on the corner of Shouyo's left eye, so he sighs. "I'll send it down when I have time."_

_The ginger shakes his head. "No, no," He smiles up, still grateful. "That has to cost like ten times what the thermos does." he sniffs, the tip of his nose already starting to grow red. "Keep it for me? I'll come back for it."_

_Atsumu looks at him for a second, he's not stupid, despite how that sounded, it's not what he'd want. "Ya better, or I'll come down there and beat ya up for leaving me to take care of yer things." His eyes burn, Atsumu blinks rapidly and grits his teeth._

_It's spring, it must be spring and allergies, very late-in-life presenting allergies._

_Shouyo huffs. "You're gonna miss me and you know it." He sticks out his tongue. "I've never bought your tough-guy act for a second."_

_He looks down. What good is pretense here? Now? Shouyo's leaving in less than two hours, leaving to become the very notion of impermanence in Atsumu's life. "'M only going to miss yer spikes." He says, still stubborn."_

_The ginger grins. "And my food."_

_"Alright, yesh!" he grits out._

_"And our runs."_

_"Uh, huh."_

_"And me."_

_Atsumu bites his lower lip probably hard enough for it to bleed. "Yeah, you too."_

.

.

Shouyo has gone to a decent amount of weddings.

So, he's really not sure why the hell he thought he and Atsumu would get some time to talk after the ceremony. After all, it has been a whole hour and he's only ow even managed to spot the setter all the way across the reception hall.

If he'd had half a minute more, he'd have grabbed Atsumu's sleeve and dragged him away to the woods if necessary. But as soon as they were able to congratulate the newlyweds, Atsumu got swept away by Osamu and his old captain. Then Meian wanted Shouyo to meet his son, and the dress of one of the Bokuto sisters got caught in a pew-

Yeah, not quite ideal to talk about this thing -relationship? _maybe_? _how_?- between them when there was a five-year-old on Shouyo's shoulders.

At least they're supposed to be sitting at the same table for the speeches and stuff, now, if Shouyo could just find it... This place looks like it has been rearranged completely from what it looked like at the rehearsal dinner, with all the frills and the flowers, and the woodsy decorations, and the strings of lights that could probably illuminate the room by themselves, even if the headlights were off.

He purses his lips, gives a bright smile, and a -probably nonsensical-excuse to one of the Bokuto sisters whom he has been making small talk with, and sets off for that mop of blond.

A few steps in, he catches Atsumu's eye.

Shouyo stops in his tracks.

_Not here._

Atsumu is _his_ setter, and that's what his eyes are saying, he believes them, just like he would during a match.

There's some truly horrible screeching, and someone clears their throat. "Can I have your attention please, folks?" Shouyo's head snaps to the small stage at the head of the room, surprised to find Kuroo standing there, looking sheepish. Wasn't Bokuto's mother supposed to start with the speeches? "The grooms have had a-uhm- small hiccup, they'll be down within an hour-"

"We hope-" someone grumbles, Shouyo thinks it comes from Konoha, who is sitting in a table towards the front with two of the Bokuto sisters, but he can't be sure.

"-yeah, so, we're opening the bar now and we'll keep you all updated," Kuroo says, hurrying off to the side where Tsukishima is waiting, with a wide smile that just radiates amusement.

Shouyo can't help but laugh, he's not surprised in the least, not wight how they looked to be fused together while they were receiving everyone's congratulations. After he finishes laughing he looks back in Atsumu's direction, but he has disappeared. All he finds are the eyes of Inarizaki's former captain, which are somehow all too knowing.

Like he can see Shouyo's nervous little spirit floating right above his head.

_Brrr._

He whips around, but all the blond he finds is Tsukishima, heading for the bar with Kuroo's arm around his waist. 

He purses his lips, Atsumu isn't one to run away, maybe- "Wanna go outside for a bit?" Something brushes at Shouyo's shoulder, startling him almost as much as Atsumu's voice -because he'd know Atsumu's voice anywhere-. He whips around to find him smiling, smug. "I jus' sneaked up on _the_ ninja Shouyo, I should get a prize."

Shouyo rolls his eyes at him. "Pffft. Like it's hard to sneak up on someone in this crowd. Would you really be happy with that little TsumTsum?" He then notices the glasses of wine in Atsumu's hands. "Is one of those for me?"

"Nah, but I should still get at least a _little_ prize." He hands a glass off to Shouyo. "Figured it might keep us warm while the grooms compose themselves."

"I think I could use some fresh air." Shouyo takes a sip of the wine, already turning around, Atsumu right behind him. 

They weave through the throng of people with ease, everyone that actually knows the grooms has that characteristic, both proud, and amused, look in their eyes. The lobby is still too full when they come out, there's a group of teenage girls laughing in the sofas that they had the hot chocolate on yesterday, so that's also not an option. That's how they end up sitting on the steps to the main entrance, in suits and dress shoes, Shouyo shivers, subconsciously scooting closer to Atsumu so they're pressed up against each other.

Maybe this wasn't too good an idea.

Coming out here in the middle of a snowy mountain, he means.

He chances a glance at Atsumu out of the corner of his eye, only to find the other man staring intently at him. "So, uh-" There are words for this, for all of this, so many that they tangle and knot up and get stuck right under Shouyo's adam's apple. He looks away again, at the stark white of the snow-covered landscape, the clusters of pines, and the few people trailing back from the entrance to the ski slopes. It's late afternoon, already getting dark, everything has this lilac-blue shade to it freezing. "Did you think about it 'Tsumu?"

Atsumu press impossibly closer, eyes falling shut as he exhales, long and hard. "I never thought- I've been tellin' myself we were just teammates for years like you said that night. 'S kinda hard to wrap my head around."

Shouyo shivers. "Oh, so do you want-" His stomach drops to his feet as he looks down, at Atsumu's hands, which are laced together around the stem of the wine glass. "Should we go back inside?"

"No!" he snaps, and then softly. "No, jus' keep talkin', gimme a second to- to-"And Shouyo understands, he does one of his hands comes up to squeeze the setter's knee reassuringly. He doesn’t fail to notice how much thicker his accent gets when he’s nervous. It’s adorable. "Y'sprung this on me overnight, There were four years to say somethin'."

He seeks out that golden gaze, biting down on his bottom lip. "It wasn't overnight-" he starts, taking a sip of the wine and grimacing a little, too dry. "I mean I realized- late, I did, I know. But it wasn't overnight, I'm just sort of new to this, and a little- a bit dense."

Atsumu scoffs. "A bit dense?" His eyes are soft, though. Like he's doing his best to understand. " _That's_ the understatement of the century. I'm as bad as ya and I still realized sooner."

"Oh, shut up, you're worse." Shouyo huffs. "Since when?"

"Dunno," Atsumu says. "I knew before you left again though. Didn't take me four years an' someone else's wedding."

"Yet you scoff at me," Shouyo says, elbowing him in the side softly. "And it's not my fault, ughh, I had _one_ dream when I was in high school, ok? _One_ and then it kinda split off into a bunch of other things I wanted, and then I learned to organize stuff and ended up with a list of things I wanted to do." he looks down at his fingers, calloused and -right now- pale from the cold. "I just figured, tick them off one by one, y'know? It was good, even if I had to let a few go ‘cause they just weren’t possible. I did it and I like my life, and- I don't think I would have realized if I didn't come back, because you were always there. But I think you're on my list now too." He swallows, hard. "And I don't wanna let you go."

He looks at Atsumu, and waits, and waits. Snow is beginning to fall in fluffy, light little flakes. The inner lights of the lobby just went on, they paint the setter's profile amber. Little by little, it settles in Shouyo's mind, because it's already in his stomach and everywhere else. The love, all these years, has been there even if he didn't realize. But now he does, so...

He waits. 

"Say something 'Tsumu, I can't have broken you." He bites at his lower lip. "Please?"

Atsumu straightens slowly, eyes wide, vulnerable and for a second Shouyo doesn't know what he's thinking that's a strange feeling. And not one that he likes but then he sees, as in slow motion, Atsumu's hand moving to the side and leaving the wine glass resting beside him on the steps. "I thought it was for the best too, before, Shou." he bites the inside of his cheek, his recently freed hand rising to cup Shouyo's face. "But yer in my list too. I’ve been in love with ya for a bunch of time, so please, tell me that’s what it means."

And he can't help it, Shouyo pitches forward, kissing Atsumu full on the mouth. Maybe it's because it's freezing out here -and he's wearing dress socks, for fucks sake- but Atsumu feels like the core of the earth, all-consuming heat, wiping all away as he goes. Shouyo's free arm wraps around his neck pulling himself closer, closer. “Yeah ‘Tsumu, that’s exactly what it means.”

Atsumu leans back, and for a second Shouyo is about to climb in his lap here, on the steps of a resort in the middle of this wintry mountain.

There's a small clinking sound, and then Atsumu is gone, hand shooting out just in time to stop the now empty glass of wine from rolling off the stairs.

They look at each other for a second and start laughing.

.

.

Bokuto's speech ends up not being much of a speech, its more of an overflowing cascade of praise for Akaashi.

Which is also probably what it was in the first place, if slightly more articulate. But Atsumu just finds it cute. Anything's cute to him at this point, he and Shouyo are holding hands under the table and they've gotten at least three disgruntled looks from Tsukishima with it.

He might be feeling a little too giddy, and he hasn't had anything to drink yet.

But fuck it, it's a wedding and he has a new boyfriend, he's allowed to be hella giddy.

Akaashi steps up next, cheeks dusted with red, fancy sash a little askew. He didn't say much last night, other than thanking everyone for making the effort to come up here to be with them at the wedding. He clears his throat, hand going around the microphone. "Hello everyone," he looks around the room, for a second Atsumu feels like he's staring at them, but then his eyes are fixed on the head table again, where Bokuto is all ut waving from. "I wanted to thank you again for coming up here to support Koutarou and me." He looks down for a second, the fingers of his free hand fiddling with each other. "I will be brief, since I'm not very good at speaking in public."

"You're perfect 'kaashi." Bokuto hoots from the table and Akaashi smiles, a little wider. Atsumu has to wonder for a second if _they_ have had anything to drink, both seem slightly more chipper than usual, but maybe they're just happy. He sure knows the feeling.

The dark-haired man clears his throat. "I know most of you saw this coming-" he continues."- to be sincere so did I, since I first talked to Koutarou again after having lost contact for three years. I knew neither of us was letting the other go again." He takes a deep breath I think many things are like that, when it comes down to it what fits, fits. We owed ourselves a chance, and because of that chance, I have Koutarou by my side. I couldn't be more thankful." His voice hitches a little on the last few words. "We fit, and I couldn't be happier to share that with all of you tonight." Akaashi steps off the podium, small spring on his step as he slips into Bokuto's waiting arms, and they proceed to make out.

Atsumu can't help but exhale, long and hard as he averts his eyes, he was there for all of Bokuto's excitement and hesitance and the whole proposal ordeal. When he sees them, he can't help feeling mushy inside, instantly wanting to look at Shouyo. But now he can, so he does.

The ginger's, eyes are a little glassy, but he's not crying this time. He leans to the side, to rest his head on Atsumu's shoulder, and nothing needs to be said.

Then the waiters come in, and the food. Whoever dealt with the actual organization and catering is a genius, everything seems to blend perfectly into the theme -though Atsumu can't really name what it would be, maybe 'fairytale', but that sounds cliche-, even the round silver accents on the rounded edges of the cake.

-he suspects it was Bokuto's mother, the woman looks like she could command a battalion, a wedding must not be a hard thing for her to plan-

After a while, soft music starts playing, the first dance is announced and the grooms step out on the dancefloor. They've opted to keep it simple, it's the only dance that they're going to do exclusively. 

_How would you feel_

_If I told you that I loved you_

_It's just something that I want to do_

_I'll be taking my time, spending my life_

_Falling deeper in love with you_

Beside him, someone leans over the table to set a plate with a slice of cake in front of Tsukishima -it's his third, which _is_ scary, the man might be a professional athlete, but how?-. Atsumu cranes his head back, to find his twin's sharp eyes watching him smugly. "Fuckin' finally." He drawls, sitting back, watching where he has brought Shouyo's hand to rest on his lap. "Took ya long enough."

"Shut yer mouth." Atsumu squeezes the hand in his and Shouyo peeks in. "Jealous, big bro?"

Osamu scoffs. "More like scared fer Shouyo-kun."

The ginger giggles. "Aww, 'Samu is happy about us." He mushes his cheek to Atsumu's shoulder, making him jump. "Don't blame him, and don't fight, I've been dying to eat your cooking for like a year."

And even Osamu isn't completely immune to Shouyo's charm, and right now that's turned up to one hundred and twenty percent. "Stop doin' that Shouyo-kun." Osamu grumbles and Atsumu can only figure it's the way Shouyo's eyes are all bright and if he looked any happier he'd be quite literally glowing. "Both of ya can stop by the shop in Hyogo, but I make no promises 'bout mum showin' up."

Shouyo grins, wide, sunlight in a bottle. "I'm great with parents. I'd love to meet her."

"Is either of ya gonna ask my opinion about this?" Atsumu snaps at them, and then to pairs of eyes turn to him, one unimpressed the other amused. "Fine, whatever, sure ye ae Shou.." The first dance has ended by now. People are slowly trickling towards it, and some other soft, slow song is playing, though Atsumu doesn't really bother to listen for the lyrics. "C'mon let's go dance." He grumbles at Shouyo. 

The ginger rolls his eyes at Atsumu. "See ya later Osamu-san," he says, as he lets himself be pulled along.

The lights dim down then, and the fairy lights do indeed light up the whole hall perfectly, tearing gleams form the silver decorations.

It does feel kind of silly at first, they can't figure out who is supposed to lead, though they're both decent dancers by usual standards. "Ow, 'Tsumu!" Shouyo huffs, right after Atsumu steps on something soft. "Let me lead this one then we can switch"

Atsumu wrinkles his nose at him. "Why'd ya get to lead first?"

"'cuz you just crushed one of my toes." Shouyo deadpans, switching his hands around. "Ow- was that on purpose?"

He whistles. "Nope." But he lets himself be led, there's only around half a foot f height between them, it's not that awkward. And Shouyo's hands are steady. “And for the record, I was promised salsa lessons ya owe me Shou.”

“Right here?” Shouyo taps his shoulder with his fingers. “I’m pretty sure we’d get kicked out for making a scene.”

“When has a lil thing like that stopped us?” Atsumu asks, with a smug grin.

“Never, and you _are_ a good dancer.” He leans his head to the side and brushes his cheek too Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder. “But I’m kind liking this and my toe still hurts.”

“I didn’t step on ya that hard.” Atsumu mumbles. “Big baby.”

Shouyo just smirks. “I like that.” He says, and for about point five seconds the floor decided to disappear from under Atsumu.

Cheeky little shit.

They’re silent for a moment, probably already dancing close to each other than what’s considered adequate for this kind of event. It might be a bi embarrassing if either of them were the kind to care.

"I was going to go visit my family after this," Shouyo mumbles, suddenly looking a little bashful. "Osamu-san kind of got ahead of me, but do you want to come? You've met Natsu before." He stops for a second. "You don't have to, though."

It might be a little mean, but Atsumu lets him stew for a few seconds, staring down straight into Shouyo's brown eyes before he laughs. "Or I let ya go alone?" He asks. "'Course I'm comin', and don't listen to 'Samu, our folks are cool. They’re not pushy."

The song ends slowly, and Shouyo hums, switching his hands around. Atsumu pulls hm closer. "I do want to meet them though."

Under his hand, Shouyo's waist is trim and nicely shaped into a slope, the hint of hard muscle that forms it grazes against Atsumu's hold once in a while, making him want to squeeze. "Well, I don't particularly mind." He leans forward, burying his nose softly on the fluffy mop of hair on top of Shouyo's head. It smells good, and is definitely starting to get long, he kinda likes it. No, he _really_ does. "Yer sure ya wanna do this?"

Pressed to his chest, he feels Shouyo stiffen a little. "Yeah." he pulls away just enough that he can look up at Atsumu without having to bend too far backwards. The predator eyes are back, and the only thing reflected in them is his own face, but Atsumu has never felt more at ease. "I have no idea how we're gonna do it. We might have to ask Iwaizumi for some tips but I'm in if you are."

"I have a couple offers." Atsumu bites his lip. "Been thinkin' about them."

Shouyo nods, not breaking his gaze, a hand reaches to trail over Atsumu’s cheekbone and back, to brush through the soft hairs of his undercut. "It'll work out,” He smiles reassuringly. “I have offers too. At worst we won't have to be too far."

Atsumu chuckles. "We could market ourselves as a package." Shouyo's eyes widen, as the possibility dawns on him. "I mean, who wouldn't want us both Shou?"

"No one sane, that's who." Shouyo says, neck stretching up a little, grinning in that way Atsumu can never get tired off. "You might have to get learning another language though."

He scoffs, the song changes again, and they change hands without even thinking of it. "Why? Yer the best translator ever and I have ya." Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Osamu watching them, cup of sake n his hand, nose wrinkled. Beside him Sakusa looks like he’s smelling something bad.

"Are you gonna kiss me any time soon ‘Tsumu? My neck is starting to hurt." Shouyo whispers up at him.

"In a sec, I'm tryin' to freak OmiOmi out." Atsumu licks his lips. “We gotta turn a little to the left.”

The corners of Hinata's eyes crinkle. "Well, I'm trying to gross out Kageyama." He sucks his lower lip through his teeth. "We can turn while we do it?"

Atsumu throws his head back, laughing. "Good call." He leans in close, when their lips are all but touching, the idea comes to his mind. "I knew I was yer favorite setter."

Shouyo rolls his eyes at him, the grip on Atsumu's waist turning a little tighter, almost possessive. "You're my favorite, 'Tsumu."

His lips press into Atsumu’s warm and plant. Everything he knows they are though he plans to keep confirming that as often as he can.

Most people are looking, though it's probably no surprise, and Atsumu totally misses Sakusa's reaction, actually, he doesn’t look anywhere other than at Shouyo’s face for a long, long while, especially when the ginger grins devilishly and pulls Atsumu closer still, to whisper in his ear. “I do have that bottle I promised you upstairs, ‘Tsumu.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Ed Sheeran plays in the background**  
> Really hope you liked it!!!


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